Mystery Never Changes
by Courier999
Summary: In the world left in the wake of a nuclear war, Mystery Inc. has since become a symbol of law and order in the wasteland located west of the Mississippi as they keep doing what they do best. Following one such case, however, the gang becomes embroiled in a massive conflict that stands to reshape their corner of the world. Rated T for violence, cursing, and scary content. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

SCOOBY APOCALYPSE: Mystery Never Changes

_Scooby-Doo, _DC Comics, and all related characters are property of Warner Bros.

Chapter 1: Law Dogs

A red six-wheeled van made its way along a stretch of highway in the American Southwest. Contained within its body were four young men and women, a Great Dane, and a fairly impressive communications suite (well, fairly impressive for the world left behind after the bombs). Before the world had been engulfed in atomic fire, they had been known as Mystery Incorporated- traveling private detectives with a reputation for investigating and exposing criminals who had concealed their activities under the guise of paranormal activity.

Even after the apocalypse, that was still the case- all that had changed was the nature of the crimes, coupled with a newfound reputation as bastions of law and order in a world gone mad. It was this reputation that kept them in business as they wandered from town to town across the wasteland, either answering calls for their help or stumbling upon cases themselves.

* * *

_Blackwater, Texas- a few days earlier_

"Now, let's see who this so-called revenant really is!" a blond-haired man dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans with an orange bandana around his neck said, his hands gripping onto the head of an undead figure.

The blond-haired man yanked on the head, and a surprisingly-intact rubber mask flew off, exposing the fat-faced head of a balding middle-aged man.

"Doc Larsen- I should've known." a black woman with short-cropped hair said.

"Blow me, Kathy! At least I was keeping those raider creeps at bay!"

"At the cost of nearly starving us by directing them to those convoys from the Ag Center. And for the record, you'll address me as Mayor Lawson from here on out." Kathy replied, a tranquil fury in her voice.

Mayor Lawson turned around to face the blond-haired man.

"Mister Jones, you and your friends have my eternal thanks. If there's anything me or my town can do you for, just let me know."

"Please, call me Fred. And now that I think of it, is there anywhere that we can find a good mechanic? We've been running on low-grade ethanol for the past several days, and I think it's given us engine trouble."

Lawson bit her lip.

"Well, there's a settlement about two or three days' drive west of here- place called Mockingbird. Never been there myself, but we trade with 'em."

"What sort of trade?" a redheaded woman wearing what looked like purple tactical gear and a green bandana around her neck asked.

"We give them water and ethanol, they send us things like spare parts, various and sundry knickknacks, and the occasional luxury foodstuff- I swear on my mother's grave, they make the best damn crabapple jelly this side of Dallas."

A nearby bearded man in a green shirt perked up.

"Like, we've got to go there! Who knows when we'll get the chance to eat something that isn't another MRE?" he exclaimed.

"Reah- romething rother than MRES!" the team's Great Dane added.

"Well, Daphne- the gourmands have spoken!" Fred jokingly proclaimed to the redhead.

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"I'll go get Velma."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

In case you're wondering, no, this isn't in canon with "In Blackest Day", "Marie, Reine du Sang", and "Shipping Up to Gotham". This is a good old-fashioned Elseworlds story based on the recently-ended _Scooby Apocalypse_ comic from DC, except instead of a nanotech-based apocalypse, it's a more conventional post-nuclear one in the vein of the _Mad Max_ films, the _Wasteland_ series of video game RPGs, and the pen-and-paper RPG _Deadlands: Hell On Earth_ (look those last two up when you get the chance). Also, no, this doesn't mean that "Shipping Up to Gotham" has come to a premature death- this is just a little side project to keep things going while I work on the current main entry in the Earth-55 continuity.

As for the DC elements that'll be showing up, the only one I'm willing to confirm right now is Jonah Hex. If you're wondering how _he's_ still alive despite having lived in the days of the Wild West, just assume he fell into a Lazarus Pit on one of his adventures back in the day


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Regular Freakshow

_Kerr_'_s Food and Fuel- roughly halfway between Blackwater and Mockingbird_

There was a squeal of tires as Mystery Inc. pulled up to an old truck stop, the smell of alcohol fumes lingering around some of the gas pumps. A few dozen yards away sat a motel that had clearly seen far better days, the parking lot filled with a motley mix of cargo rigs, wannabe road warriors' heavily modified cars, some motorcycles, and a handful of good old-fashioned bicycles.

"Well, gang, it looks like this is where we'll be staying for the night. I'll go and get us some rooms and fuel, and the rest of you can take it easy for a while." Fred said as he undid his seatbelt.

"Guess we'll, like, go and see what they've got to eat around here." Shaggy said as he and Scooby exited the van.

Daphne let out a deep sigh.

"Well, Velma and I'll make sure they don't eat the owners out of house and home."

* * *

Like the diner it had once been before the bombs, the truck stop canteen wasn't much of a place. True, both the clientele and the menu were mostly the same as before the world had been engulfed in nuclear fire (with some substitutions on the latter), but going by the perpetually-scuffed tile floor, half-functioning light fixtures, and peeling vinyl on the benches and chairs, the canteen itself had clearly seen far better days.

* * *

"So, what can I do you for?" the woman behind the counter asked as Shaggy and company entered the canteen.

"Couple of goat burgers, baked potatoes, coffee if you've got it-" Shaggy replied.

"Only coffee we've got is the chicory type, hon."

"Sounds good to me."

"Anything else you want, sugar?"

"Desert salad."

"And your friends?"

"You got any beef burgers?" Daphne asked.

"Well, hello, Miss Fancypants!"

"Ma'am, you didn't answer my ques-"

"Yeah, we've got 'em- 'course, it'll cost ya a pretty penny."

Daphne winced as she dug through her hip bag and pulled out a bag of saltwater taffy, a mini bottle of chili sauce, a small box of teabags, and a bag of tomato jerky.

" Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! That's quite the haul you've got there, missy!"

"Is this enough for a-"

"Pepper alone'll cover your burger, sugar."

The woman's eyes turned to Velma.

"And what can I get for you, my bespectacled friend?"

"Grilled rabbit and a desert salad."

And with that, the woman behind the corner dashed off to the kitchen.

* * *

"So, where ya headed, stranger?"

Fred looked up from the fuel pump and saw a ragged-looking man with wild eyes approach him.

"Mockingbird. Why do you ask?"

The man's eyes lit up.

"Now what's a good man like you doing going _there_? Don't ya know that town's a regular freakshow?"

"What do you mean by-"

"The people runnin' that town ain't natural, sonny boy! I've heard the stories from the drivers who've been there- like how the sheriff is a dead ringer for that Bride of Frankenstein from the old movies or how the mayor has it that the citizens pay some kinda tax in blood!"

"Probably just a bunch of tall tales."

"Tall tales, ya say? Sonny, I've been up that way before!"

"Try me."

"Last time I was in the general area of Mockingbird, I saw a road warrior's ride flying down the highway like the Devil hisself was after him! And behind him was another souped-up muscle car with its headlights glowing an otherworldly blue and an empty driver's seat!"

_Looks like we've got another reason to check out that place._ Fred thought as he turned back to the fuel pump.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Well, this should be an interesting development for our heroes, now shouldn't it? Also, three guesses as to who's running Mockingbird and the first two don't count.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: In the Shadow of the Valley

To the average wasteland resident, Mockingbird was virtually indistinguishable from most other settlements. Past the protective boundary of the perimeter wall (this one made of pre-cast concrete as opposed to the glorified barricades built from the rusted hulks of vehicles and/or shipping containers) that surrounded the former industrial park sat a gaggle of ramshackle houses built from the refuse of the old world such as cinder blocks, sheet metal, and scraps of timber.

* * *

Mystery Inc.'s van pulled up to Mockingbird's front gate and honked the horn.

"_Who goes there?_" a voice rasped from a nearby intercom speaker.

Daphne rolled down her window, leaned out, and pressed the button on the speaker.

"We're travelers in need of a mechanic, and we heard you people had a good one."

"_Pull the other one, it has bells on it._"

_Time to roll out the big guns._

"We're those traveling gumshoes you've probably heard about."

"_Why didn't you say so in the first place?! Come on in!_"

There was a rumbling noise as the gate rose up, and the van soon drove inside.

* * *

"Well, this is certainly more…upscale than what I was expecting." Daphne said as she saw the settlement proper.

Velma blinked as she exited from the parked van. Scattered across the concrete were expanses of green space, many of them dominated by both apple and crabapple trees. Other such expanses were fenced in to form animal pens, the sounds of goats and pigs rising from said pens.

"Well, that's not something you see very often these days…" she said to nobody in particular.

"What isn't?" Shaggy asked.

"Full-grown fruit trees outside of an ag center."

"_Impressed?_" a woman's voice asked.

Velma, Shaggy, and Daphne turned around. Standing before them was a redheaded woman wearing a brown duster and blue jeans, with a sheriff's star pinned on said duster.

"Who are you?" Daphne asked.

"Call me Cinnamon. I'm- well, I'm the closest thing to a sheriff around here."

"What do you mean by 'closest thing'?" Velma asked.

"The last guy to hold the post managed to turn himself into buzzard food, and I managed to catch the mayor's eye by catching some _cabrón _who figured he could cut a sweetheart deal with a raider band by siphoning a few things from one of our outbound shipments. But the thing is, I won't officially be the sheriff 'till election time rolls around. _Comprende?_"

Shaggy, Daphne, and Velma all nodded.

"Good. Now, if what Jasper told me is true-"

"Like, who's Jasper?"

" The guy who let you in. Anyways, if what he told me is true, you need your ride fixed, _correcto?_"

"Yes." Velma replied.

Cinnamon pointed in the direction of the gate.

"Garage is on the right, next to the weigh station."

"You hear that, Fred?" Daphne asked.

"_Got it._"

Daphne then turned back to face Cinnamon.

"So, what's there to do around here?" she asked.

"Depends on what you're looking for, _señorita._ Though if you'll excuse me for bragging, our little burg's one of the more…cultured settlements in this neck of the woods."

"Define 'cultured'."

"There's a theater in the more upscale part of town- used to be where the employees lived back when. Owner's a bit weird, but she can sure put on a show, whether live or a movie. Of course, if you're looking for something a bit more rough-and-tumble, then I recommend you swing by Gooseman's for a few drinks and games of chance. And if that don't float your boat, then we've got a pretty good marketplace."

Daphne perked up.

"What've you guys got?"

" Some of the finer things in life- 'gator skin boots, chili sauce, chili powder, genuine coffee and chocolate, liquor that's actually _good_, musical instru-"

"Say no more!" Mystery Inc.'s resident redhead gleefully exclaimed.

"Um, Daph, how do you expect to pay for those things? We're low on valuables as is-" Velma began.

"Well, there's a way to get a discount." Cinnamon said.

"Like, what do we have to do?" Shaggy asked.

Cinnamon winced.

"To put it nicely, you're going to have to give blood."

"What." Velma said.

"From what I've heard, it's something the mayor's had going on since she took office about…oh, four, five years ago. Apparently, it's some kind of tax- all residents give a pint every few weeks, unless they've got some kind of blood-borne illness."

"Can you, like, take us to see this mayor so we can, like, figure out what the deal is behind this 'blood tax'?"

"Just leave your weapons at the door and don't try anything funny unless you want a hole between your eyes."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Cinnamon is the name of two different DC characters- a gunslinger from the Wild West named Katherine "Kate" Manser (one of the many reincarnations of the ancient Egyptian princess Chay-Ara, who would eventually reincarnate as Shiera Sanders aka the Golden Age version of Hawkgirl), and then a modern gunslinger who was named after the one from the Old West. Needless to say, the one presented here is the latter.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: And The Children Shall Lead

"And here we are- Town Hall." Cinnamon proclaimed.

There was silence from the trio of Mystery Inc. members as they examined the seat of Mockingbird's government- an old office building, about seven or eight stories high.

"So, like, where's the mayor's office?" Shaggy finally asked.

"Top floor. Rest of the building's devoted to the people who actually keep this place running- taxmen, accountants, tallymen, and the postmaster. And before you ask, the elevators still work."

* * *

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle- they've got an actual garage here!" Fred exclaimed as he eyed the building in question.

A moment later, a young black woman in a green, oil-stained jumpsuit approached the van, a nametag reading "NATASHA" placed on her chest.

"So, you're the famous Mystery Incorporated." she said.

"Just a member of it." Fred replied.

"Reah- just a rember!" Scooby added.

Natasha's gaze focused on the Great Dane that was sticking his head out the passenger window.

"Sir, I'll have to let you know that dogs aren't allowed in the garage."

Fred nodded. Just then, Natasha's walkie-talkie squawked, the word "SHERIFF" appearing on the screen.

"Hello?" she said.

"_ Miss Irons, I need you to do me a solid._"

"What kind?"

"_The Mystery Inc. van- you've got it in the shop, right?_"

"Just pulled up. Why do you ask?"

"_One of their guys said he wanted their dog. Don't know why, but given their reputation, I figure we can fulfill their request._"

"And you want me to bring them their pooch."

"_If it's not too much trouble._"

"Where are you guys?"

"_Right outside Town Hall._"

"Be there in a few."

The conversation ended, and Natasha turned her gaze to Fred.

"Sorry to make you wait, but-"

"I heard everything, Miss Irons."

* * *

_Town Hall- several minutes later_

"Like, thanks for bringing Scooby over here!" Shaggy exclaimed as Natasha walked away.

Cinnamon sharply exhaled.

"So, you got everything in order now?" she asked.

"Yep."

"In that case, let's get this show on the road."

And with that, the quintet entered the old office building.

* * *

_Mayor's Office- a few more minutes later_

Shaggy blinked as he entered the office. Sitting behind the desk was a young woman with distinctly purple skin and hair that looked to be in her early twenties.

"Ribella?" Scooby asked.

The woman's tired eyes lit up.

"Coach Rogers? Scooby? What are you doing here?"

"Like, I could ask you the same question!"

Sibella rose from her chair and wrapped her arms around her former teacher.

"It's a long story, Shaggy."

"Wait- you know each other?" Cinnamon, Velma, and Daphne asked in unison.

"I was, like, their gym teacher a while back."

Sibella's eyes turned to Cinnamon and the other two members of Mystery Inc.

"Would you three mind waiting outside? Shaggy and Scooby and I have some catching up to do."

Cinnamon nodded, and she, Daphne and Velma walked out the door, leaving the three old friends alone with each other.

"So, what've you been up to the past few years?"

"Apart from traveling around solving mysteries, not much. Of course, that bit's not much of a change from what we were doing back before the world went to pieces. How about you?"

Sibella took a deep breath.

"Well, for a few years, we kept things running like normal back at the school, even after the bombs. Then the local townsfolk stormed the place after they had a bad harvest, and the other girls and I fled into the night."

"But, like, how'd you end up being a mayor?"

"We wandered for…I don't even know how long, but we eventually stumbled on this place. Though back when we found it, it was called Fort Danforth, after the man running it."

Sibella winced as the memories came flooding back.

"To put it diplomatically, he was what you'd call a real piece of work- put most of his people into debt slavery, hoarded food and water that he sold back to them at inflated prices, that sort of thing. Last straw was when he tried to hurt Tanis before an 'adoring' public. Cue me starting a riot, and then everything went pear-shaped for him."

"So, what happened to the guy?"

"Let's just say that with the way he ran things, he'd made himself the one thing a leader should never make themselves- hated. Of course, after he and his primary cronies had been run out of town a few weeks after that riot, someone had to fill his shoes as mayor. And seeing as how I'd been one of the main players in the uprising that drove him out…well, how could I disappoint them?"

A pregnant silence settled over the room.

"So, apart from the whole 'liberator of the town' thing, why else did you take the job?" Shaggy finally asked.

"Reah- what Raggy said!" Scooby piped up.

Sibella sharply exhaled.

"Let's just say that being Dracula's daughter teaches you a lot about wheeling and dealing- hence why we've become something of a trade hub. Now, what else do you want to know?"

"Like, how're the other girls doing?"

"We're all doing pretty well given the circumstances. Elsa's the main handyman, Phantasma runs the theater, Winnie runs the radio station, and Tanis does odd jobs most of the time. Anything else?"

"So, what's this we've heard about a blood tax?"

Sibella winced again.

"Well, I need to keep myself fed somehow, and it also ensures we have reserves in case someone needs needs a transfusion."

There was another long silence.

"Like, why'd you rename the town 'Mockingbird'?"

"It's from an old pre-war TV show about a family of monsters who lived on a street called Mockingbird Lane."

* * *

"I'll be honest with you- you're probably better off getting that engine replaced." a sallow-skinned woman with a hairdo reminiscent of the Bride of Frankenstein said as she examined the innards oF Mystery Inc.'s van.

Fred gulped.

"Fortunately, I've got something you'll probably appreciate- took it surprisingly intact from some road warrior's junked hot rod."

Fred turned his head to see an engine block hanging from some very sturdy chains.

"V10 multi-fuel engine. Interested?"

"How much, Miss-"

"Frankenstein- Elsa Frankenstein. As for the price…you got any scented or beeswax candles?"

Fred shook his head.

"…I see. Well, since I'm feeling charitable, I'll let you know where you can find some."

"Where?"

"Old shopping center about five miles from here. And just because I'm a nice person, I'll let you borrow my bicycle."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Yes , even in the post-apocalypse, I'll find a way to use the Grimwood girls. And before anyone asks, I'm not purposefully trying to shill them- in this case, I just thought it'd be interesting to have a town run by monsters, and since the girls are thus far the friendliest monsters in the _Scooby Doo_ franchise…well, they were the logical choice.

As for Winnie being the one running the radio station, it's a reference to the radio personality known as Wolfman Jack. Also, Natasha Irons is another DC character- in the comics, she's the niece of the Superman character John Henry Irons aka Steel.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Strikin' Up A Chord

_Gooseman's Saloon- "Downtown" Mockingbird_

"What'll it be, ladies?" the bartender asked as Cinnamon, Daphne, and Velma walked into the establishment.

" Usual for me, Deacon." the sheriff replied.

"And your friends?"

"What've you got?" Daphne asked.

"Mostly whisky, hard cider, and potato vodka, plus tequila and some fruit brandies if you want the good stuff."

_You have my curiosity, but now you have my attention…_

"What sort of fruit brandies are we talking about?"

"Applejack, kirschwässer, Poire Williams, and calvados."

"Kirsch for me."

"I'll take a hard cider." Velma said.

* * *

_The things I do these days…_ Fred thought as he pedaled across a derelict stretch of road. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an old billboard, a long-faded advertisement featuring three young women in Goth attire plastered across it. Along the bottom of the ad, he could see the words "HEX GIRLS- LIVE AND IN CONCERT AT SPEAKING ROCK ENTERTAINMENT CENTER, EL PASO!"

_I wonder if they survived._ he thought.

* * *

"_Uptown" Mockingbird_

"Don't you have to, like, run the town?" Shaggy asked as he, Scooby, and Sibella walked through the marketplace.

"Can't a girl have a little time off with some _fang-tastic_ old friends?" came the reply.

"…rhe's got a roint." Scooby piped up.

Shaggy nodded as the trio continued on their way.

"So, what kind of neighbors do you guys have?" he asked.

"Well, there's some kind of settlement in an old shopping center a few miles from here. It used to be a raider camp, but then there was a schism or something a few years ago."

"Like, what sort of schism?"

"Some of the raiders who passed through here said that some of their old comrades found some new leaders. Since then, the ones that stayed in that shopping center have taken on some…odd customs."

"What sort of customs?"

* * *

_Well, here I am. All I need to do now is get inside, find those candles, and then get back ou-_

"_OI YOU! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!_"

Fred snapped to attention. Standing a mere stone's throw away was a musclebound man wearing something that resembled Goth fashion if one squinted and tilted their head a bit.

"Who, me?" the blond-haired man asked.

"You dare intrude upon the turf of the Ayatollahs of Rock and Rolla?"

"The which-wha-"

The man in the Goth ensemble reached for his hip and produced a sickle.

"The Ayatollahs of Rock and Rolla, stone-ears! Commanders of earth, wind, fire and air!"

"I don't understand what you're saying, sir."

"What's there to not understand? Just walk away and you'll be fine!"

"Look, I need to get inside-"

Before Fred could even finish, the other man charged.

_Well, I hoped it wouldn't come to this._

As his opponent descended upon him, Fred drew his pistol and took a shot at the brawny Goth, the bullet grazing his shoulder and prompting him to drop the sickle.

_And now to finish the j-_

Fred's train of thought was promptly derailed as his opponent's fist collided with his temple, sending him reeling.

"I will bring you to face my mistress' judgment, interloper!"

"What mistresses?" Fred slurred.

The Goth slugged him again, this blow landing beneath Fred's jaw.

"The witches three, who came through here to spread their gospel!"

"Wha-"

Another punch to the temple, and Fred collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

* * *

_Zimmerman's Department Store- a couple hours later_

"_Oh, great- _another _'heathen' that those weirdos dragged in. At least with the old groupies, they didn't treat you like some kind of prophet._" a woman's voice proclaimed.

As Fred came to, he began to take stock of his surroundings and current situation. Before him, seated in a leather recliner atop a pile of junk, was a slender young woman with pale skin, green eyes, and long black hair with red highlights at the roots and ends.

"Who are you?" he slurred.

"S-"

"O Exalted Thorn, I have brought y-" the musclebound man from earlier began.

"How many times do we have to tell you to stop worshipping us?!"

"But why should we not revere those who saved us from pestilence, who gave us a greater purpose beyond preying upon the convoys and caravans-"

"Just…go!"

The former raider meekly slunk off, leaving Fred alone with the nominal leader of the camp.

"So, who exactly are you?" the blond-haired man asked.

"Call me Sally."

"Sally who?"

"McKnight."

" Wait- aren't you Thorn from the Hex Girls?"

"Was before everything went to hell."

Just then, another thought crossed Fred's mind.

"So, did the other members-"

"Yeah, we're all still here- and we're probably not leaving thanks to those loons who think we're the best thing since sliced bread."

There was a long silence.

"So what's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?" Sally finally asked.

"Well, my friends and I had to stop in Mockingbird to get our vehicle repaired-"

"What sort of repair?"

"Engine replacement- price was some beeswax and/or scented candles. You know where I can find some?"

"Try the housewares department. And while you're at it, see if you can't scrounge up some raw ethanol so we can finally blow this pop stand."

* * *

"Okay, ladies- I've got a proposition for you and your friends." Cinnamon said.

"What sort of proposition?" Daphne asked.

"You people solve mysteries, right?"

"Considering it's in our name, yes."

"Well, we've got a big one for you. We've been picking up some hinky long-range radio signals recently, so we sent some of our people to triangulate their point of origin."

"And where was that point of origin?" Velma asked.

"Town called Scrapheap. Thing is, Scrapheap doesn't exist anymore."

Daphne and Velma blinked.

"How'd that happen?"

"From what the refugees told us, an army of robots swarmed the place and went hog-wild."

"Let me guess- you want us to check out what's left of the town and see where the transmission's originating from."

"Bingo."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Static On A Distant Signal

_Zimmerman's Department Store- Housewares_

Fred swiveled his head as he heard a scuttling sound in the distance, his thankfully recovered pistol in hand.

_What on Earth is that?_

Right on cue, a cockroach the size of a house cat leapt out of the shadows, prompting Fred to let out a distinctly unmanly scream as he fired wildly at it, some of his rounds managing to hit the creature's vital organs.

_Please let it die please let it die please let i-_

Just as the gun let out the familiar _CLICK!_ of a dry fire, the insect collapsed, hemolymph oozing out through the bullet holes as it went through its final death spasms. Once it had finally stopped moving, Fred let out a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his brow.

_Well, at least that's ov-_

"_Who the **** goes there?!_" a feminine voice cried out.

Fred began sweating bullets once more as a young-looking woman with blond pigtails and wearing a dark green ensemble rounded a corner, a pump-action shotgun in her hands.

"Um, hello th-"

Just then, the shotgun discharged, the pellets narrowly missing their target. For his part, Fred promptly ducked behind a nearby shelf.

_Too well groomed for a raider-_

The shotgun fired again.

"And too well fed to be an average scavver!" Fred blurted out.

"_Are you calling me fat?!_"

"I didn't mean it like that! Now, can you please stop trying to blow my head off?!"

"_Only if you tell me who the **** sent you!_"

"Thorn- er, Sally did!"

The blond walked around the corner, coming face-to-face with Fred.

"Why didn't you say so to begin with? Would've saved me a couple shells."

"Um, since you're not trying to kill me-"

"Yeah, I'm Dusk. Used to just be my stage name, but in this day and age- well, it pays to have a kickass _nom de plume_. Or _nom de guerre_. But if we're being honest, there isn't really a difference anymore."

Fred vigorously nodded.

"So, what's a scavver like you doing here? If it's jewelry you want-"

"Actually, I'm here for some candles- need them to pay for some auto repairs in Mockingbird."

"Lemme guess- you want the scented kind."

"How'd you know?"

"Just a hunch."

* * *

_Gooseman's Saloon- Mockingbird_

"Whadda want from me this time, Cinnamon?" a man in an old-fashioned cowboy outfit asked, his voice carrying a deep, throaty rasp.

"W e're going out to investigate some mysterious transmissions out from where Scrapheap used to be, and we need an extra gun."

"Who's the 'we' you're talking about?"

Daphne and Velma stepped out from their booth, and the man in the cowboy outfit turned around. As he did so, he gave two a good look at the severe burn scars that dominated the right side of his face.

"Oh God…" Daphne said as her face took on a greenish hue.

"Y'know, if I had a nickel for every time I heard someone say that about me-"

"Just who are you?" Velma asked.

"Name's Jonah Hex. You and your friend?"

"Velma Dinkley and Daphne Blake, Mystery Incorporated. Perhaps you've heard of us."

" I think I have, but I can't seem to put a pin in it."

"We're those traveling detectives-"

"Ah, now I remember who you guys are. So, the head honchos've got you contracted to check out some town that got wiped off the map because they're spooked about some messages on the radio, is that it?"

"That's about the size of it." Velma replied.

The scarred gunslinger let out a hoarse chuckle.

"Jonah, if there're still people alive in Scrapheap-" Cinnamon began.

"I didn't say I _wouldn't_ take the job. After all, it's been God knows how long since I got to play the white hat."

* * *

" …and now we've probably got enough to cover whatever you need these suckers for." Dusk said as she put a jarred candle with the label "Sage & Citrus" into a blood-stained messenger's bag.

"So, where'd you-" Fred began.

"The bag? One of the local lunatics went to town on a passing courier and presented this thing to Thorn as an offering."

Fred nervously nodded at the tale, only for an errant thought to suddenly cross his mind.

"Out of curiosity, where's, um-"

"Luna? She's probably out in the parking lot, sitting in her place at the 'shrine' those bozos set up-"

"What shrine?"

" Our old tour bus."

Just then, something clicked in Fred's head.

"Your bus- does it take ethanol?"

"Yeah, it does. Why do you ask?"

"Thorn asked me to scrounge some up so, and I quote, 'we can finally blow this pop stand'."

A smirk began to form on Dusk's face.

"There's a hardware store on the other side of the parking lot. I'll bet you dollars to donuts that they've got some."

* * *

"So, how exactly are we going to get to Scrapheap?" Daphne asked as she, Velma, Cinnamon, and Jonah left the saloon.

Cinnamon cracked a smile.

"Ever been a road warrior's guest?"

* * *

_Outside Mockingbird town limits- a few minutes later_

A souped-up muscle car with a pale-gray paint job and a sheriff's star decal on the driver's door raced across the landscape. Inside the vehicle, Cinnamon's joyous cries and screams echoed across the passenger compartment.

"How 'bout a little driving music, compadres?" she asked.

"What've you got?" Velma replied.

Cinnamon reached into the cupholder, pulled out a cassette tape, and popped it into the stereo. A few moments later, a guitar riff begin to fill the air.

"_Get your motor running/head out on the highway! Lookin' for adventure/and whatever comes our way!_" the stereo blared.

* * *

_Lee's Hardware- across the parking lot from Zimmerman's Department Store_

"So, how exactly did you gals even get a cult?" Fred asked as he and Dusk scanned the shelves.

"It was Thorn's fault."

"Come again?"

"We were passing through this neck of the woods about 3, 4 years ago when we got jumped by raiders- and given their…predilections towards captured women, we thought we were in for a world of pain. And we probably would've been had their leader not got himself bitten by a snake."

"So how'd that save you?"

"Thorn saved the guy's life by making some kinda poultice. And since most raiders aren't exactly known for their intellect, our timely save and presence on a nearby billboard somehow convinced them we were some kind of benevolent witches, followed by them taking our music as some sort of holy text."

Dusk paused.

"I mean, it was fun having a cult for the first few months, but then it just got annoying."

* * *

_Scrapheap- a few hours' drive from Mockingbird_

"I found something!" Daphne exclaimed into her walkie-talkie as she clambered up to the crest of a heap of rubble.

"_What is it?_" Cinnamon replied.

"Looks like a body."

"_Raider?_"

"Don't think so- outfit's too coherent."

"_What's the outfit look like?_"

"Gray combat uniform, black hat, and leather boots."

"…_son of a bitch._"

"What's so-"

"_Ever hear of General Wade Eiling?_"

"Vaguely, back before the bombs."

"_Well, since then, he's appointed himself the last bastion of the US government- and he's built himself an army to back it up. If you find any other signs of those guys, let me know. Cinnamon out._"

A moment after the transmission ended, the walkie-talkie went off again, the screen reading "VELMA" this time.

"Hello?"

"_Daph, Jonah and I've found something near the radio tower._"

"What sort of something?"

"_Looks like some kind of hatch. Jonah's calling up Cinnamon now to see if we should open it up._"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Induction, Then Destruction

There was a sound of creaking metal as Jonah and Cinnamon opened the hatch in the ground near the radio tower, while Daphne and Velma watched on in apprehension.

_ What sort of…things are down there?_ Mystery Inc.'s resident redhead thought.

A moment later, the hatch had been fully opened, revealing naught but an empty corridor.

"Well, it looks like it was just a waste of ti-" Jonah began.

"_LT? Is that you?_" a young man's voice asked from further down the corridor.

Cinnamon and Daphne looked at each other.

"Could be a trap of some kind." the former said.

"That's a chance I'll have to take." came the reply.

"It's your funeral."

Daphne was silent as she approached the ladder leading into the corridor.

"Catch you all later." she said before sliding down.

* * *

_Hex Girls Tour Bus- Zimmerman's Department Store parking lot_

"_Hey, Luna- I got you something._"

The dark-skinned keyboardist turned around to see Dusk and a blond-haired man standing nearby, the former clutching a gallon jug of denatured alcohol in her hands.

"Good. Now I need you and your friend to get me about two or three more of those."

"You aren't even going t-" Fred began.

"Considering that you're with Dusk, haven't had any teeth knocked out, and are still breathing, I'm going to assume that you're good people." Luna replied.

* * *

The corridor beneath the Scrapheap radio tower was silent as the grave as Daphne made her way down it, the only sound going through her ears being the low hum of her weapon's power pack.

"Olly olly oxen free!" she exclaimed.

"_Over here…_" a young woman's voice replied.

Daphne promptly picked up the pace, homing in on the voice's source.

_And here comes the moment of truth._ she thought as she continued down the corridor, turning the fire selector from "safe" to "semi-auto", the soft blue glow of the weapon serving as the only illumination in the stygian depths.

* * *

_Gooseman's Saloon_

"Miss Mayor! If I'd known you were coming, I'd-"

"Don't worry about it, Mister…Deacon, is it?"

The bartender vigorously nodded.

"What do you want from a humble man such as I?"

"Since I'm feeling extravagant today, how about two glasses of the rum that came in on the latest shipment from Ciudad Azúcar?"

"Like, that's o-" Shaggy began.

"Come now, old friend- what kind of host would I be if I didn't treat you to some of the finer things in life? Besides, from what I've heard, the rum that Ciudad Azúcar distills is utterly fang-tastic."

"Like, if you say so."

A moment later, the two glasses of rum slid down the bar, with Sibella promptly taking a swig.

"So, how is it?" Shaggy asked.

"Let's say that I now know how it earned its reputation as the pride of the Southern Rio Grande Valley."

* * *

"Oh God…" Daphne said as she rounded a corridor.

Before her were a young man and his two female cohorts- none of whom could have been any older than 18 or 19 _at most_. All of them were clad in identical gray uniforms and leather boots that the corpse she had found topside had worn, with the young man and one of the young women wearing black hats to boot. The only outlier in the group was the other young woman, who was wearing a green hat.

_They shouldn't- they're way too young to-_ Daphne thought, her jaw flapping in stunned silence.

"Is there something wrong?" the first young woman asked.

Daphne's hands reached down, and she began fumbling for her flashlight.

"I asked, is there something-"

Just then, the room was flooded with light, prompting the woman to recoil. With the increased visibility, Daphne could now better make the trio- the young man was clearly Caucasian, the woman recoiling from the light appeared to be Asian, and the green-hatted one was black. All three had a head of black hair cut high and tight, and their uniforms' right shoulders were embroidered with a patch reading "43RD INFANTRY BATTALION- ALPHA COMPANY".

"Who are you?" Daphne finally asked.

"Specialist Dana Tan, New American Army, serial number 12-12-2-triple aught. As of this moment, my comrades and I surrender."

"…surrender? What're you-"

"Terry, our unit's abandoned us! We're deep in hostile territory, and I don't think rescue or resupply is coming anytime soon!"

The woman in the green hat let out a cough.

"Yes?" Daphne asked.

"Specialist Maxine Gibson, serial num-"

"It's okay, soldier. You don't have to rattle off your serial number for me."

* * *

"It's been nearly half an hour since your friend went into that hole. She's either really damn lost, found something interesting, or dead." Cinnamon said.

"We've been in tighter spots before, Sheriff." Velma replied.

"Like what?"

"Well, there was one time when we were up in Coalinga investigating a wave of cattle mutilations that the locals chalked up to chupacabras."

"And?"

"Turned out the 'chupacabras' were a bunch of territorial mutants who were basically pawns in a range war being fought by some of the area's more prominent ranchers, whereupon said ranchers sent their brute squads after us with orders to shoot to kill."

Just then, Daphne clambered back up to the surface.

"So, what'd you find down there?" Jonah asked.

"That dead guy in the uniform?"

"What about him?"

"Well, three of his friends were down in the tunnels."

"Did you win?"

"Actually, they surrendered- said that they'd been left behind."

Jonah's face contorted into a sneer.

"Probably some kind of trick."

"What makes you think-"

"Because _I_ pulled it off back at Vicksburg."

A long silence settled over the scene.

"There's no way you can be that old." Velma finally said.

"Let's just say that Ra's al Ghul should've been paying more attention to where he was shoving me last time we met. Back on the topic at hand, I say we leave 'em here for the buzzards- I mean, there's no way we can fit those prisoners _and_ these two ladies in the Sheriff's car."

"Our guests can sit on the prisoners' laps." Cinnamon replied.

"Yeah- and get thrown through your windshield when you have to come to a screeching halt."

"Well, what do _you_ recommend then?"

"Find another ride for the gumshoes. I mean, there's got to be at least one other working vehicle around here."

"Daphne and I'll go look." Velma piped up.

* * *

"Thorn, this had better work…" Dusk grumbled as her bandmate climbed up onto the top of the tour bus with a megaphone. From where she was sitting, the former drummer could see a veritable horde of men and women dressed in outfits that vaguely resembled goth fashion. Meanwhile, in the driver's seat, Luna had her eyes closed and her fingers crossed.

* * *

_Here goes nothing…_ Thorn thought as she got into position atop the bus, raising the megaphone upwards.

"Listen up, my acolytes!" she exclaimed.

The crowd went quiet enough that one could hear a pin drop.

"I know that we have guided you, molded you, and made you more than mere marauders- but the day has come that we must depart from you. One day, we shall return, but not even we know the day or the hour when that shall happen. In our absence, it falls upon you to follow our teachings and to not fall back into your old and evil ways. But before we depart, we have but one request."

"What is it, oh great and mighty Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla?" one of the crowd members asked.

"The blond interloper? Give him his bicycle back."

* * *

"Y'know something, Shaggy?" a tipsy Sibella asked.

"What?"

"Some days, I just wish I could pawn off my position to *hic* my vice-mayor and go adventuring- to feel the wind running through my hair, to *hic* go from town to town, righting wrongs and exploring through the ruins, that sort of thing! I mean, you know how mind-numbingly _tedious_ it is to go through *hic* all those mountains of paperwork or dealing with the delegations of other nearby towns?"

"I can only imagine."

Sibella took another swig of her rum.

"I mean, just before you arrived, I had to deal with some representatives from Gastown-"

"Where's that?"

"About a day's drive north-ish, up near someplace called Durant in what used to be Oklahoma. They're where we get most of our fuel these days, what with *hic* the uptick in raider activity on the road from…from- it's right on the tip of my tongue! It's about fifty miles west of Waco-"

"Fort Ewing?"

"That's the place! You been there?"

"Yeah- some mutant creep was sabotaging some of the wells there. Lemme tell you, he was one ugly son-of-a-gun!"

"How ugly are we talking?"

"Remember that Clayface guy that made onto the news back when?"

"Vaguely."

"Well, he looked kinda like that, 'cept instead of clay, his body looked like it was made outta tar!"

Sibella and Shaggy both broke out into laughter.

* * *

"Um, Velma- is it just me, or does that van look kind of familiar?" Daphne asked.

Velma blinked as she saw a news van with a distinctive medium blue with a distinctive horizontal green stripe around the van, adorned with two orange flowers. A further glance revealed the only outward sign of modification to be the addition of a ramming grill on the vehicle's front.

"Oh my God…" she said.

"Preach it, sister." Daphne replied.

"I mean, this has got to be the mother of all coincidences- only way it could be more of one is if the previous driver left it with a full tank of gas and the keys in or near the ignition."

"Well, as much as I'm loathe to look a gift horse in the mouth, here's hoping that those things are the case."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Drums In the Distance

"…and that's how we convinced Gastown to give us a better deal on their shipments!" Sibella proclaimed as she and Shaggy left the saloon.

Just then, the two heard a phone ringing from a nearby callbox.

"You want me to g-" Shaggy began.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not _that_ drunk."

Shaggy was silent as his old friend made her way to the callbox and picked up the receiver.

"What is it, Jasper?" she asked.

"_We've got something of a situation outside the gate._"

"Define 'something of a situation'."

"_Sheriff's got a van with a weird paint job following her ride, and there's a bus parked about a couple hundred yards away from them._"

"Anything else?"

"_Yeah- sheriff says she's brought some prisoners from Scrapheap._"

"Raiders?"

"_Three of Eiling's goons, actually._"

"…I see. What about the van?"

"_Drivers are the two ladies from Mystery Inc._"

"Let them in. Now, what about the bus?"

"_Three women and a blond guy on the roof, and Miss Frankenstein's bike is a few yards in front of it._"

A pregnant pause filled the air.

"I'll be back with you in a few." Sibella finally said.

A moment later, the sound of a dial tone emerged from the receiver, followed shortly thereafter by Sibella punching the "0" button on the keypad.

"Hello, operator? Get me Elsa's Garage."

The dial tone came back for a few moments, and then the call connected.

"_What can I do you for, Sibella?_"

"I don't want to alarm you, old friend, but you _do_ know your bike's outside the gate, right?"

"_ Good- he's back._"

"Who's back?"

"_One of those detectives who popped by- the blond guy with the orange bandana._"

"What's he doing with your bike?"

"_I let him borrow it for a bit. As for why, it's kind of a long st-_"

"Can you please give me the basics?"

"_He went to that old shopping center to get some things to pay for his van's engine overhaul. And if I had to guess, that's where the bus and the women came from too._"

"I see. Well, it's been nice talking with you, but I've got to get back to Jasper about the visitors at the gate."

"_Understood. Catch you later._"

Almost as soon as the dial tone began again, Sibella punched the "0" once more.

"Operator, get me the front gate."

"_That you, Miss Mayor?_" Jasper asked once the call connected

"Yes."

"_So, what do you want me to do with the people on the bus?_"

"Let them in."

"_Come again?_"

"Call it woman's intuition, but I don't think they'll be any trouble."

"…_well, here's hoping that you're right._"

The call ended, and the gate began to open, with the first vehicle to enter being Cinnamon's muscle car.

* * *

_Mockingbird Jail- several minutes later_

"Now, Specialist Tan, we have some questions we want to ask you." Cinnamon said as she and Jonah eyed the captured teenage soldier.

"What sort of questions?"

"Like where you came from and what you were doing in this neck of the woods." Jonah growled.

"Do you want to know where I was born or where I was deployed from?"

"Deployed."

"Fort Zmeck, out near Oklahoma City. Our company was part of an initial forward detachment-"

"Spare us the fancy talk, kid. Now just tell us what you're doing this far away from Oklahoma and why the hell we found you and your buddies in that old fallout shelter." Jonah butted in.

Dana let out a loud sigh.

"Our orders were to secure the town's radio tower- and our company commander decided to aid that along by sending in the robots and a handful of troopers to 'deal' with the residents. Once the robots were done, then Max would go in and fit a repeater up to the tower while Terry and I served as a cleanup crew-"

"So how many innocent lives did you destroy as part of the 'cleanup'?" Jonah snarled.

Dana threw up her hands.

"If you're insinuating that Max, Terry, and I gunned down civilians, then you've got another thing coming! The three of us didn't find a soul in that town when we went through!"

"And now for the $64,000 question- why were you in that shelter in the first place?" Cinnamon asked.

Dana winced at the memory.

"We got bushwhacked, and Terry got pretty badly wounded."

"Serves him right." Jonah hissed.

"Then what happened?"

"Everything went helter-skelter. Our company commander got his head blown off-"

"Again, serves him right." Jonah snarled, only to earn an elbow in the ribs from Cinnamon.

"And while we were recovering from _that, _then a bunch of surviving townsfolk charged in and routed the rest of us. And with Terry being in the state he was in- well, since we couldn't keep up, our only other option was to hunker down."

"And why should we believe a God-damned word of what you've just said?" Jonah hissed.

"Because I don't have any reason to lie. I mean, if we go back now, the three of us'll probably be shot for desertion."

* * *

_Mayor's Office- shortly after Dana's interrogation_

"Well, this is just _fang-tastic._" Sibella grumbled as she saw the report from the sheriff's office on her desk.

A s a dark cloud settled over her, she turned her attention to the phone sitting upon her desk.

_Well, it looks like the time has come._ she thought as she dialed the number.

* * *

_Mockingbird Comms Center_

Winnie snapped to attention as the sound of a ringing phone echoed through her ears.

"Hello?" she asked, the greeting soon turning into a howl.

"_Winnie, send out signals to the following settlements: Gastown, Blackwater and Ag Center, Mescalero, Oasis, Ybanez, Lubbock, Amarillo, and Abilene._"

"Whatever for?"

"_Apparently, we've got some very powerful new neighbors with bad intentions for this neck of the woods._"

"Okay, okay- cool your jets! I'm on it!"

* * *

_Marketplace- "Uptown" Mockingbird_

"_It's really you!_"

Thorn turned her head upwards at the sound of the strange voice.

"Who's there?"

Right on cue, a blue ghostly young woman materialized out of thin air.

"Finally, some real live pre-war talent!"

"…and you are?" Dusk asked.

"Oh, where are my manners? I'm Phantasma, and I run the theater in this town, and you ladies are just what I'm looking for!"

Dusk's face lit up in anger.

"You mean to tell me that we spent the past half-decade or so squatting in an abandoned shopping center being worshipped by a cargo cult when we could've been performing in an actual venue in front of an _actual_ _audience_?!" she growled, grabbing Thorn by the lapels.

"I didn't know!" the Hex Girls' lead singer meekly replied.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: A Beachhead of Cooperation

_Mockingbird Town Hall- a few days later_

"This meeting is called to order. Will the secretary please do roll call?" Sibella said.

A nameless bureaucrat nodded before picking up a sheet of paper.

"Mayor Sibella Dracul of Mockingbird?"

"Present."

"Deputy Mayor John Stewart of Mockingbird?"

"Present." the former Green Lantern replied.

"Mayor Katherine Lawson of Blackwater and Ag Center?"

"Present."

"Mayor Jurgens of Gastown?"

"Present." a black-haired man in a largely intact three-piece suit replied.

"Colonel Kirby of Amarillo?"

"Present." a blond-haired woman in a heavily-stitched military uniform said, the secretary moving crossing her name out before moving further down the list…

* * *

_A few minutes later_

"Now, given the circumstances, let us get down to brass tacks and address new business." Sibella said.

"What sort of new business?" one of the representatives asked.

"General Eiling's forces have deployed initial scouting forces from a base in Oklahoma, and one of these forces has destroyed Scrapheap. Given what we've heard through the grapevine, there is no way we can hope to withstand the coming onslaught as is."

"So, what's your plan to stand against the invaders?" Kirby asked.

"I propose that the larger settlements- the ones all of us represent- form an alliance. Or barring that, a mutual defense pact."

There was a snort from another one of the representatives.

"Yeah- as if Lubbock, Amarillo, and Abilene don't already have a crap-ton of influence over us smaller settlements as is! And now you're asking us to put our safety in our hands? I think not!"

Just then, Kirby rose from her seat.

"Despite what my _esteemed_ colleague from Ybanez seems to think, neither Abilene nor Lubbock nor Amarillo have any imperialistic ambitions regarding settlements such as Blackwater or Mockingbird. In fact, an alliance would ensure your independence if and when Eiling's forces make their play."

"There's only one problem- once Eiling goes on the offensive, I'm not sure we'll be able to slow him down enough in time." Stewart replied.

"So we go and take the fight to him."

"Unfortunately, we don't have the manpower or the materiel for that- and if we try, we leave our settlements wide open for raider attacks." came the retort.

Just then, Stewart got an idea.

"Then again, I know some people who _might_ be able to pull this off on their own…"

* * *

"You want us to do _what?_" Fred asked.

"Look, I know it sounds like a _bat_ idea-" Sibella began.

"A bad idea? It's, like, suicide!" Shaggy replied.

"Reah! Ruicide!" Scooby added.

"It's either this or see how long we can hold out against Eiling. And given what happened with Scrapheap, I'd rather not try and see what's behind Door 2." Sibella retorted.

"…point taken."

"Still, I don't see how exactly we're going to pull this off. Apart from the part where we go and earn the ire of the wasteland's strongest military, how exactly are we supposed to- y'know- get to whatever outpost Eiling's using as a jumping-off point? I mean, the Mystery Machine and our other van have only so much room." Velma said.

"Who else are you planning on taking?" Sibella asked.

"Jonah Hex, those prisoners we brought from Scrapheap, and-"

"Like, any of the old Grimwood gang you can spare!" Shaggy butted in.

Sibella bit her lip.

"Well, we can definitely spare Phantasma and Tanis, maybe even me if I can work something out with the deputy mayor…and now that I think about it, I see your point."

"And that's _before_ we factor in things like food and gear." Velma smugly added.

From where she was standing, Daphne could swear she heard the gears turning within Fred's skull.

"I think I've got an idea…" the latter said.

* * *

"Y'know, when you guys told me we'd be touring again, I didn't expect it to potentially be our swan song." Thorn grumbled as she stocked up the bus's kitchen.

"You ask me, it's better to burn out than fade away- especially if said burning out involves giving one last 'screw you' to one of the guys who put the world into this mess." Dusk replied.

"Preach it, sister." Luna said as she settled into the driver's seat.

Just then, she heard a knock on the bus's body. A quick glance out the mirror revealed the source to be a relatively petite young woman who looked to be somewhere in her mid-teens covered in bandages. Accompanying her were an attractive young woman with a purple complexion, the ghostly figure from a few days earlier, and a man dressed up like a cowboy with severe burns on the right side of his face.

_ Okay, time to figure out _who_ those guys are._

The bus door opened, and Luna eyed the new arrivals.

"So- Phantasma, is it?"

"Who else?"

"So, who're your friends?"

"I'm glad you asked! Over here is our tough-as-nails, long-lived cowpoke Jonah Hex-"

"Howdy."

"And next to him is Sibella, our mysterious vampire mayor! And next to her is Tanis, our resident mummy…doer of odd jobs?"

_Well, our chances of not dying just increased a little bit._ Thorn thought.

Just then, the bus's CB radio squawked, with Luna promptly answering it.

"_Wandering Bard, this is the Mystery Machine- both us and the comms van're rearing to go._" Daphne's voice proclaimed.

"Roger that, Mystery Machine. Meet you up at Gastown?"

"_Ten-four_."

And with that, the impromptu convoy began their long trek into the wasteland.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

And now comes the fun part- actually seeing more of the post-apocalyptic world beyond a small corner of northwestern Texas, as well as some of the inhabitants of the larger wasteland. Also, I'd like to take a moment to address why the Hex Girls are in this fic- thematic contrast.

On the one hand, we have General Eiling- a hawkish military officer whose outlook could (especially after the bombs) best be summed up as "Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven". On the other, we have the Hex Girls, who as "Eco-Goths", would have had been at odds with Eiling in a great many regards. Think of it as a sort of poor man's _Fury Road_, with Eiling and his army as the stand-ins for Immortan Joe and his War Boys while Mystery Inc. and their allies fill in for Mad Max and company, with the Hex Girls filling in for the Vuvalini aka that all-female tribe that Furiosa originally came from.

As for why John Stewart's serving as Sibella's deputy mayor- going by the DCAU incarnation of _Justice League_, Stewart served in the USMC, and as such, would probably possess above-average leadership and tactical skills along with a basic working knowledge of strategy and logistics. Also, since he was deemed worthy to be a member of the Green Lantern Corps, he's not one to be easily cowed by the likes of raiders or other threats to Mockingbird.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: All the Scars Are On the Inside

_Somewhere in Oklahoma- several days later_

"Couldn't we have, like, stocked up on blood back in Gastown?" Shaggy asked as he, Scooby, Sibella, and Daphne approached a nearby farmhouse.

"It wouldn't have been worth it- all those petrochemical byproducts spoil the taste." came the reply.

"Okay…I think that might be a little too much information." Daphne said.

"Sorry about that- just a slip of the tongue."

"Come to think of it, do you really even need to drink blood? I mean, you went through a can of those peaches we got in Ballardsville in less than 30 seconds!"

"Let's just say that 'normal' food and drink falls under the category of 'tastes great, less filling' for us vampires."

Daphne blinked.

"Huh. And here I thought you were just a regular mutant."

She then turned to Shaggy and Scooby.

"So, how long were you two planning on keeping the whole 'our old friend is a vampire' thing a secret?"

"Like, you never asked."

Daphne muttered a string of curses under her breath as the quartet continued onward, now noticing that the farmhouse had seen better days even by the standards of the post-war world. The front garden looked as though it'd been trampled through, the cow shed, chicken coops, and pig and goat pens looked as though they'd been smashed, and the cornfield had been stripped utterly bare. A further scan of the area revealed that the nearby peach and apple orchards been similarly plundered.

"Looks like the local raiders've beaten us here." she said.

Just then, Scooby pointed towards a pair of steel doors embedded in an embankment along the side of the house.

"Like, what's your nose picked up in there?"

"Rells rike roast rat!"

Shaggy and Daphne turned to each other.

"I'll take point." the latter said.

"Are you s-" Sibella began.

"Considering I have the plasma gun and all you have is a 10mm, yes."

"Yeah, but I have a shotgun." Shaggy piped up.

"…point conceded." Daphne replied.

The quartet proceeded to approach the doors, Daphne taking advantage of the walk to toggle the fire selector on her weapon from "safe" to "burst fire". A few minutes later, the four were gathered around the embankment, ready to enter into what lay behind.

"Sibella, you have the honors." Daphne said.

The vampiress nodded before proceeding to fling open the doors in a burst of superhuman strength, whereupon Shaggy rushed down the staircase while Daphne followed close behind. As the adrenaline raced through her veins, the latter raised her weapon and pulled the trigger, sending three staccato blasts of high-energy ionized gas soaring through the air, prompting a terrified _"Eeep!_" from somewhere in the darkness.

_What the hell?_ Daphne thought.

As the sound reached Shaggy's ears, he came to a sudden stop and turned on his weapon's underbarrel flashlight- and then his jaw dropped at what he saw.

Pinned against the wall by his light like a butterfly on a mounting pin was a tiny, terrified figure- a little girl, no older than ten, wearing the tattered remains of a homespun shirt and pants. Filthy and staring, she cowered away from the intruders. In one hand, she held a half-gnawed food packet, the words "POTATOES-FREEZE DRIED" still visible. In the other, she clutched a well-loved rag doll.

From where she was standing, Daphne cringed as she saw the waif. At even at a distance, she could plainly see that the latter's body was emaciated and dirty, the skin taut around her face, which in turn was framed by a tangled and matted mop of greasy black hair.

"It's all right," she said soothingly. "It's all right. There's nothing to be afraid of here." She then extended an open hand towards the child.

The girl retreated from the extending fingers, backing away and visibly trembling, her expression reminiscent of a deer in the headlights. A split second later, she rabbited off towards a far corner. From his position, Shaggy turned off the underbarrel flashlight and put the gun away, taking a moment to remove a smaller handheld model from his hip bag before pivoting in the girl's direction.

At the edges of the cone of light, in a far corner of the storm cellar, was a mass of wadded-up blankets and pillows with a skinning knife and a small pile of empty preserving jars at the edge. Nearby were the remains of a cooking fire, the remains of small scraps and strips of cloth littered among the charred remnants of twigs and slivers of firewood. Rounding out the scene was a small pile of rat bones a few yards away.

Directly in front of the duo was the girl, rocking herself back and forth with her back against the wall.

"There's no way we're leaving her here." Daphne whispered.

"Like, my thoughts exactly." Shaggy replied.

There was a pregnant pause between the two.

"How do you want to handle this?" Shaggy whispered.

"You watch over me while I get the girl."

Shaggy nodded as Daphne walked over to the child.

"Hey, little girl." the latter said as she got closer.

"_Ain't gonna dream no more, no more. Ain't gonna dream no more. All night long I sing this song. Ain't gonna dream no more._" the child quietly sang.

"Can you tell me what your name is?"

The girl raised her head, a wild look of terror in her eyes.

"S-S-Stay away from me!" she exclaimed before making another break for it.

"Oh no you don't!" Daphne exclaimed before lunging on an intercept course. Within the space of a split second, she managed to get her arms around the child, locking her into a bear hug. And like all trapped animals, the girl lashed out in a frenzy with hands and feet and teeth, desperately flailing to break free of her captor's grasp. Eventually, however, the trashing and flailing came to an end as the girl's strength ran out, and she went limp in Daphne's arms and going into an almost catatonic state, allowing Daphne to rock her back and forth.

* * *

"Ante up, ladies and gents." Dusk said, anteing up a scrap of paper. "Dishes."

"Dishes. Could do with less of them." Jonah said as he anted up.

"Garbage." Thorn said as she did the same.

Dusk completed the deal, and the three studied their cards.

"I'll take two." Jonah said.

"Speaking of garbage…" Thorn said, pausing a moment. "Gimme three."

"And one for the dealer." Dusk piped up before handing out the cards.

"What do s'pose Daphne and the others are doing now?" Jonah asked before proceeding to make his bet. "Black water tank flush."

"Probably chatting it up with some determined homesteaders, eating a nice homemade dinner. I fold." Thorn said.

"Me too." Dusk added.

"Take it, cowboy."

"Thank you, ladies. That's a nice pile of things off my plate." Jonah said.

Thorn shuffled.

"Meal's probably something good- beef stew, baked potatoes, pi-" Dusk began.

Just then, there was the sound of the bus door opening, followed shortly thereafter by the door to the front lounge being thrown open.

"What the he-" Jonah began as Daphne and the rest of the scavenging party entered.

It was at that moment that he saw just what Daphne was carrying in her arms, and a stunned silence settled over the lounge.

"Get that sawbones we picked up in Scrapheap- the Oriental one."

"You mean Dana-"

"Yeah, that's the one. Now, did you find anything in that farmhouse besides another mouth to feed?"

"Going by what we saw, there's ration packs and preserves in the storm cellar."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Jonah, Dusk, and Thorn's little poker game is a reference to the _Firefly_ episode "Shindig". As for the identity of the little girl…well, that'll be revealed next chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: You Don't Have To Live Like A Refugee

"So, how is she?" Daphne asked as she sat by Dana in the makeshift infirmary that had once been the back lounge of the tour bus.

The former soldier looked up from the biomonitor cuff that she'd modified to fit around the girl's shrunken arm.

"Physically, she's okay- borderline malnutrition, but I don't think there's any permanent damage. Preserves probably supplemented what she didn't get from the milrats-"

"What's a milrat?"

Dana exaggeratedly slapped her forehead.

"It's what we called MREs back in my old profession. Anyways, as for how she's holding up mentally-"

"Don't sugarcoat it for me, Miss Tan."

"She's showing all the classic signs of PTSD- frankly, it's a miracle she hasn't completely snapped from the weight of whatever she's been through."

"Can you help her?"

"Yeah, but first we're going to need to get through to her."

* * *

"You okay, Mister Hex?" Thorn asked.

"Not particularly." came the reply.

The old cowboy let out a deep sigh.

"It's that kid we picked up."

"What about her?"

Silence settled over the front lounge as Jonah's eyes drifted into a thousand-yard stare, memories of Vicksburg roaring through his head.

_She doesn't deserve this this isn't her war damn you to Hell Jeff Davis for reducing a child to eating rats and mules_-

Just then, he felt a hand upon his shoulder, snapping him out of his nightmarish reverie.

"Wha- who goes there?!"

"Just me, Mister Hex. It's just me."

* * *

"Here, try this." Daphne said as she leaned in with a steaming mug.

The girl looked at the mug with suspicion.

"It's just a little instant hot chocolate. Don't you like chocolate?"

The girl raised an arm, and Daphne handed over the mug. Across the infirmary, Dana was writing something down, her eyes darting between the girl and her pad of paper.

_Motor responses are good_. she scrawled, taking particular notice that while the girl had spilled some of the cocoa on her chin, most of it had gone down and was (currently) staying down. A few moments later, Daphne gently took the mug away despite it still being half full.

"That was nice, wasn't it? You can have some more in a minute- we don't want to make you sick by giving you too much rich stuff too quickly."

The girl remained eerily silent as Daphne put the mug aside and dabbed at her brown-stained chin with a washcloth.

"Uh-oh. It looks like I made a clean spot here. Guess I'll have to the whole thing now."

Dana shot Daphne an irritated look as the latter picked up a squeeze bottle of sterilized water before proceeding to soak the washcloth.

* * *

"Looks like someone decided to make a last stand." Velma said as she and Shaggy reached the farmhouse's second floor.

Shaggy nodded at his cohort's comment as he scanned the hallway- walls peppered with bullet holes, the floor littered with shell casings and dried blood, and a hastily erected barricade just behind the doorway of the master bedroom.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.

"Shot grouping's too precise for your average band of raiders. Could be renegade militiamen from one of the larger settlements, but they don't typically pick on small family farms like this."

* * *

"Hard to believe there's a little girl under all this." Daphne said as she scrubbed away at the last of the dirt and accumulated grime on the child's face.

Bending over, she stared appraisingly at the newly revealed face.

"Definitely a little girl. And a pretty one, at that."

Daphne then proceeded to examine the cloth.

_Screw it- it'll just be easier to get a new one._ she thought, grabbing another clean one before soaking it. Once her tools were prepared, Daphne returned to her work. Moving from the girl's face to her hands, she began excavating dirt from between the fingers and beneath the nails, revealing pink skin from behind a mask of dirty grime.

"Whoever you are, you're one brave kid."

"A-ace." the girl said, her voice barely audible.

Daphne perked up, still moving the washcloth as she leaned in.

"I'm sorry, kid, I didn't hear you. Sometimes my hearing's not so good. What did you say?"

"Ace. My n-name's Ace."

Daphne was finishing off the second hand, carefully formulating her response.

"Well, Ace- my name's Daphne."

As Ace remained silent, Daphne lifted the small hand she'd just finished cleaning and gave it a formal shake.

"Pleased to meet you, Ace."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the rag doll that Ace was still clutching with a vise-like grip.

"And who is that? Does she have a name?"

"Casey. She's my only friend."

"What about me?"

"I don't want you as a friend." she said, her tone flat and neutral.

"Why not?" Daphne asked

"Because you'll either be dead or think I'm a freak."

She turned her gaze to the doll.

"Casey's okay. She'll stay with me. But you'll go away and you'll leave me alone." she said matter-of-factly.

Daphne's blood ran cold at the tone of the girl's statement.

"Now why would I think you're a freak?"

Ace looked Daphne in the eye, visibly trying her damnedest not to cry.

"Because I'm a mutant." she said, lower lip trembling and tears welling in her eyes.

Daphne looked her newfound ward over.

"I don't see anything out of place."

"That's because it's on the inside. I can do things with my mind, and that's why Mom and Dad and I had to leave Gastown. And now you'll make me leave too."

Daphne nervously swallowed.

"Oh, Ace. Did your mom and dad…leave like that?"

"They're dead. Some bad men in gray clothes and black hats came up to the farm and they started demanding we give them our crops and our animals-"

Ace suddenly began to hyperventilate as the memories came rushing back.

"And then Mom told me to go and hide so I ducked into the storm cellar and then I heard guns and when I came back out Mom and Dad were dead and in a hole in the peach orchard and everything was-"

It was at that moment that Daphne leaned in and wrapped her arms around Ace.

"Ace, I promise you I'm not going away. I'm not going to leave you and I'm not going to be dead. Cross my heart and hope to die."

And with that, she let the little girl bury her face into her shirt and weep, staining the shirt's chest with tears and mucus while Daphne petted her hair.

"Sorry to spoil the moment, but shouldn't we tell your friends about what the kid just told us?" Dana butted in.

"Just as soon as I'm done with Ace."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Yes, the Ace presented here is a version of the DCAU incarnation of Ace of Clubs of the Royal Flush Gang, who you all probably remember as the little psychic girl that Batman comforted in her dying moments in the JLU episode "Epilogue". As for whether or not she meets the same fate as her DCAU counterpart, that's still undecided (though either way, this version of Ace at least got to have a childhood as opposed to her canon counterpart). And for the record, yes, most of Daphne and Ace's interactions were based on Ripley and Newt's interactions in _Aliens_.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Someone Reaching Back For Me

_ Feels like I'm moving out all over again._ Daphne thought as she looked over about three small cardboard boxes sitting at the bottom of the farmhouse staircase, the words "ACE'S STUFF" scrawled in black permanent marker on one of them, while the other two bore the label of "FAMILY STUFF".

"That should be everything." Ace said as she descended the stairs, Casey still clutched firmly in her hands.

"Are you sure?" Daphne asked, only to be answered by a quick nod.

"Well, if you're sure, then let's take this back to the bus."

* * *

"Thorn, I've been thinking about something ever since that little girl joined us." Dusk said.

"I'm listening."

"Judging from how old she looks, I think this post-bomb wasteland is all she's ever known. And if that's the case-"

Dusk began to choke up.

"I think we failed."

"Failed at what?"

"Remember that one line from "Earth, Wind, Fire, and Air"? Y'know- 'it's one big Earth we must share'?"

Just then, something clicked in Thorn's head.

"You mean-"

"We could've stopped this! If only we'd had a bit more sway with the public, we could've- okay, we probably couldn't have stopped the Ruskies from launching Coldbringer, but we could've stopped the big one! We could've stopped them-"

Dusk crumbled onto a heap on the floor.

"_YOU ****ING MANIACS! YOU BLEW IT ALL UP OVER A ****ING CHUNK OF ROCK OFF THE COAST OF SOUTH AMERICA!_"

Just then, Phantasma phased through the door leading from the bunk area, with Tanis right behind her.

"What's going on?" they worriedly asked in unison.

Thorn sharply exhaled.

"Quick question- how much do you two know about the reasons why the world's so messed up now?"

The two former Grimwood students were silent, prompting a sigh from Thorn.

"Well, it all started with a Communist uprising on a little South American island called Corto Maltese…"

* * *

"Okay- the first thing we're going to do when we get the chance is get you a bath!" Daphne said as she caught a whiff of Ace.

"Reah- a rath!" Scooby added, desperately trying to cover his nose with his paws.

"But didn't you-" Ace began.

"Doesn't change the fact that both your clothes and the rest of you reek to high heaven and low hell!" a nearby Velma interjected.

"And speaking of clothes, the second thing we're going to do when we get the chance is get you an outfit that hasn't been partially used as firelighter!"

Just then, a hand shot up.

"Yes, Shaggy?"

"Like, Sibella and I've been poking around the barn and we found an old tin bathtub-"

Daphne's eyes lit up.

_Looks like an opportunity just dropped into our lap._

* * *

_Several minutes later_

"_You and I, in a little toy shop, buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got. Set them free at the break of dawn, 'till one by one, they were gone…_" Daphne quietly sang as she ran her fingers through Ace's now-sudsy hair, bottles of homemade shampoo and bubble bath sitting alongside the tub.

"You don't need to sing such a sad song." Ace piped up.

"What'd you like me to sing, then?"

The little girl perked up.

"Well, here's something my dad taught me. Said he learned before the bombs, in someplace called Pennsylvania."

She cleared her throat.

"_Some people say a man is made outta mud. A poor man's made outta muscle and blood. Muscle and blood and skin and bones- a mind that's weak and a back that's strong!_"

Daphne caught on almost immediately.

"_You load sixteen tons, what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt! Saint Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't go- I owe my soul to the company store!_" the two sang in unison.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Dusk's lamentation and Thorn's explanation of what led to the nuclear apocalypse (namely the mentions of Corto Maltese and Coldbringer) are references to _The Dark Knight Returns_. Also, this should go without saying, but a more complete explanation of those events will be provided later on in this fic.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Friend Only To the Undertaker

Luna, Fred, and Dana were all gathered around an old folding camping table, a post-war roadmap spread across the top.

"Okay, let's review. Right now, we've got just enough fuel to make it to Tulsa." Luna said.

"Couldn't we just…y'know, find a truck stop-" Fred began.

"Too dicey, considering this is road gang territory and we're underarmed." Dana butted in.

"Define 'underarmed'." Luna replied.

"If it was up to me, your bus would have both sandbags and some kind of heavy weapon like an M240 on the roof."

"And where, pray tell, can we find such a weapon?"

"National Guard installations, assuming one of Eiling's goon squads hasn't gotten there first. Or if you don't want to take that kind of a chance, we can probably get one in Tulsa- if you're willing to pay through the nose."

* * *

_A few hours later_

"Daphne?"

"Yes, Ace?"

"Why'd those bad men kill my mom and dad?" the little girl asked, her voice quavering as she snuggled deeper into one of the padded cots in the back of the Mystery Machine.

_How do I put this?_ Daphne thought as she tucked her ward in.

"Because some people in this world think that they can just take everything at the point of a gun. And when other people stand up to them, then sometimes they decide to use that gun."

She took a deep breath.

"But there're also people like me and my friends in this world- people who make sure that bad guys face justice. Now, pleasant dreams, Ace. I'll see you in the morning."

Ace nodded before proceeding to turn over on her side and drift peacefully off to sleep for the first time in ages.

_Sleep tight, kiddo. Because with sentry duty, I know I certainly won't be for the next few hours._ Daphne thought as she opened her hip pouch and grabbed a bottle of caffeine pills.

* * *

"_So, where'd you get some schway firepower like that?_"

Daphne turned her head to see one of the three prisoners from Scrapheap (Terry, she thought he was called) standing next to her, his rifle pointed at the ground.

"Wait- aren't you supposed to be, y'know, the diehard one of the trio?" she asked.

"Let's just say that Dana can be very…persuasive sometimes."

As Daphne focused her attention on Terry's face, she noticed a number of seemingly recent injuries- namely a black eye and a swollen lower lip.

"So, what's your story, Mister-"

"McGinnis, but everyone just calls me Terry. Well, everyone except for my old drill sergeant and CO- they just called me aught-one-aught-nineteen triple nine."

Just then, something clicked in his head.

"So, since we've got nothing better to do at the moment, how about we, y'know, swap stories- you tell me where you got that plasma gun, I tell you how I got in that fallout shelter, that sort of thing."

"Deal."

"So, you want to go first, or do you want me to?"

"I'll do it."

Terry nodded, and Daphne began.

"Well, it was about 2, maybe 3 years ago. We were up in a small settlement in the Dakotas, trying to make sure that tensions between the settlers and the local Lakota didn't flare up into a full-fledged shooting war."

"Guess even after a hundred years, some things never change." Terry piped up, earning a dirty look from Daphne.

"_Anyways_, it turned out that LexCorp had built themselves a nice fancy automated industrial complex out in that particular neck of the woods back before the war, the head of the settlement's militia had managed to stumble upon it, and he figured he could carve out his own little proverbial hill using the goodies inside."

"So, what'd he try to do?"

"Activated one of the complex's tin soldiers and gave it orders to eliminate 'high-value enemy targets'. And you can guess who he'd designated as the enemy."

Terry nodded.

"What happened next?"

"After we exposed him, settler and Lakota alike put their differences aside and lynched him."

"But you didn't tell me where you got the gun."

"I found it in the LexCorp complex."

"So even after the end, Luthor's still screwing humanity over." Terry said.

A pregnant silence settled over the two.

"So, about that story I owe you."

"What about it?"

"I don't really feel all that comfortable about telling you how me and the others ended up in the fallout shelter right now."

"What do you want to tell instead?"

"You were around back before the apocalypse, right?"

Daphne nodded.

"What was it like seeing the world slide into hell?"

"Honestly, apart from Corto Maltese and the Coldbringer, it was all kind of a blur- all we really noticed was what we saw on the news. Why do you ask?"

"Because back when I was with Eiling, me and a bunch of the other recruits got a crash course as to just what happened during the Last War. It wasn't pretty."

"I imagine it w-"

"Whatever you're imagining, the reality was far worse if what I've read and heard is true."

"…how bad?"

"Fear gas bombs going off over Eastern Europe and East Asia. NATO and its partners, the Warsaw Pact, and the Chinese throwing bleeding-edge, barely-tested machines at each other. Wounded men fit only for medical discharge being outfitted with the same augmentations as that Cyborg guy from the Titans, just so that they can go back into the fight. And seeing as that was just a sampler, maybe it was for the best that they dropped the bombs."

In the darkness, nobody could have noticed that all the color had drained from Daphne's face. Just then, there was a beep from Terry's watch.

"Well, our shift's over. Catch you in the morning."

And with that, Terry walked away, leaving Daphne alone in the darkness.

"_You're scared, aren't you?_" a voice said from behind.

Daphne practically jumped out of her skin at the voice before noticing who the source was.

"Ace, don't sneak up on me like that- I could've blasted you by mistake! And what're you doing out of bed?"

"I had to use the little girls' room, and I was on my way back when I picked up on one of your thoughts. If it'd make you feel better, you can sleep next to me tonight."

"Y'know, that actually sounds like a good idea."

* * *

_The next morning_

"Like, it's time for breakfast!" Shaggy began as he flung open the rear doors of the Mystery Machine, barely noticing that Daphne and Ace's cots had been pushed together and that the former's arm was clasped around the little girl in a maternal embrace.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

And thus ends three (possibly four) consecutive chapters of gut punches- after all, overusing those gut punches is a good way to make them less meaningful further down the road.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Dear Hearts And Gentle People

By the standards of the old world, the breakfast that lay before the travelers wasn't much of a meal- a large pot of oatmeal, with an empty soup bowl, a metal ramekin of dried fruit, and a mug of chicory coffee at each diner's spot. To the average denizen of the wasteland, however, it was quite literally a meal to kill for.

* * *

"You do know you don't have to, like, wolf it down?" Shaggy asked as he saw Ace practically inhale her portion.

"Cut her some slack. I mean, this is probably the first proper meal she's had in ages-" Fred began.

"I'll handle this." Jonah piped up.

And with that, the old cowboy turned his gaze towards the little girl.

"Kid, you can slow down- ain't nobody going to take your food away. 'sides, if you keep eating like that, you'll give yourself a bellyache_. Comprehende?_"

Ace vigorously nodded and promptly slowed down her pace.

"How'd you-" Velma began.

"It's all in the voice, pardner." came the reply.

Sibella cracked a smile.

"You sure you aren't a vampire?" she playfully asked.

"Last I checked, I wasn't. Now, those Hex Girls on the other hand…"

"We're eco-goths, not vampires!" Dusk indignantly replied.

"Then why is it that the old billboard outside Mockingbird with your faces on it had you with each of you ladies sporting a pair of fangs?"

"They were prosthetic dentures back then!"

"Then how come you've still got them now?"

A chuckle escaped Thorn's lips.

"We ended up wandering into someplace that was more irradiated than we initially thought and got mutated. Somehow, all three of us picked up the same mutation and nothing else."

"Guess we're just lucky- that or Thorn's on real good terms with her patron upstairs." Dusk added.

Jonah nodded.

"So, what is exactly is an 'eco-goth'?" he asked.

"We're kinda like Wiccans." Luna replied.

"What on God's green Earth is a Wiccan?"

The table grew quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"We'll explain it later. For now, let's finish breakfast and get back on the road." Dusk finally said.

Just then, something crossed Fred's mind.

"What exactly are we going to use to pay for the fuel and whatever else we pick up in Tulsa?" he asked.

* * *

_Fargo's Motor Services, Tulsa- several hours later_

"What've you got in there?" Tanis asked as she saw Thorn handing out some orange pill bottles to the assembled group.

"Homemade herbal antibiotic made from a mixture of powdered garlic and purple coneflower. Trust me when I say it's worth a king's ransom in this day and age." came the reply.

"Well, I'm going to see if we can't find some better clothes for Ace than one of Velma's old t-shirts." Daphne piped up.

The other travelers soon left one-by-one, eventually leaving only Thorn, Dusk, Fred, and Velma behind with the vehicles.

"So, Thorn- where'd you learn how to make antibiotics?" the orange-clad member of Mystery Inc. asked.

"Dad was a pharmacist and Mom was an herbalist who taught me the trade. Hell, before the bombs dropped, I'd actually been planning to study at Ivy University as a Pharmacy major. Guess time makes fools of us all."

Her expression soured.

"Now, which one of you jokers wants to help me empty the black water tank?"

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Regarding the composition of Thorn's homemade antibiotics, both garlic and purple coneflower apparently do have antimicrobial properties in the real world. As for why they'd be, in Thorn's words, "worth a king's ransom in this day and age", there's one simple reason for that- in a post-apocalyptic world, more conventional antibiotics such as penicillin would become increasingly scarce as time went on, thus creating a demand for a more readily available substitute- for a similar example in real life, see the developments of celluloid and synthetic rubber.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: If You Got the Money, Honey, We Got Your Disease

_Tulsa Marketplace- formerly Woodland Hills Mall_

"Now, don't you look pretty in that outfit?" Daphne said as she and Ace looked into a mirror in an old dressing room, the latter clad in a blue dress and a pair of rugged-looking cowhide cowboy boots.

"I guess." came the reply.

She then turned around and looked Daphne in the eye.

"Why're you being so generous with me?" she asked.

"Come again?"

"These clothes, these boots- back on the farm, I'd have probably only seen them on my birthday or Christmas if the harvest'd been good. The rest of the year, we all wore homespun and whatever boots that Dad would've managed to buy on market day."

Daphne's mind raced as she struggled to come up with an explanation.

"Well, back before the war, we were a bit more…extravagant when it came to what we decided to wear."

"How so?"

"Sometimes, we'd stop buying entire pieces of clothing because the color or the pieces themselves weren't in style. I mean, shoes alone were pretty much a microcosm of the whole cycle!"

The resulting glare that Ace directed at Daphne could only be described as an expression of pure 'Are you kidding me?'.

* * *

_Of all the things I've done in this life, I never once thought I'd be wandering through Tulsa with a ghost._ Jonah thought as he and Phantasma made their way through the city's streets.

"So, what do you think of this place?" the old cowboy asked.

"Well, it's better than Houston was the last time we passed through there."

A tense silence settled over the duo.

"Care to join me in finding the nearest saloon?" Jonah finally asked.

* * *

"Well, it's certainly a step up from being totally defenseless." Dana said as she, Luna, and the quartet who'd stayed behind watched the final installation of a new pintle mount on the tour bus's roof, with the machine gun being attached a few moments later.

"Yeah, but I still can't help but feel a little dirty about putting a gun onto something with our logo on it." Thorn replied.

"Speaking of guns, we probably should get you one too- because judging from what I've seen thus far, you and Luna are a bit too reliant on Dusk to provide the firepower."

Just then, Scooby came barreling in.

"Raggy! Re's rone!"

"Gone where?" Velma asked.

Scooby then rose up on his hind legs and grabbed a metal rod before proceeding to swing in the general direction of the back of Fred's skull.

"So you're saying that someone clubbed him over the head and dragged him off, is that it?" Dusk asked.

"Ruh-huh!"

"And now for the $64,000 question- where'd he get taken to?" Thorn added.

* * *

_?_

"_ Good- you're awake._"

Shaggy blinked as he came to in what appeared to have at one point been a locker room. Standing before him was a bearded hulking colossus of sinew and muscle with a brown fauxhawk atop his head.

"Like, who ar-"

"I'm the one who's going to throw your ass out onto the floor in a few hours."

"Onto what floor?"

The man grinned.

"You're in Lord's Arena, one of the biggest and bloodiest fighting pits this side of the Pecos. As for me, I'm the pitboss- no need for you bother learning my name, since you probably won't be alive to see me ever again. Now, see that armor? When I get back, I want to see you wearing it!" he said, pointing towards a suit made of a set of football shoulder pads and a baseball umpire or catcher's vest.

_Scooby-Doo, where are you?!_ Shaggy thought as the pitboss left him alone.

* * *

_Leone's Saloon_

"So, what can I do you and your ethereal friend for?" the bartender asked as Jonah and Phantasma entered.

" Glass of your finest for me, ma'am." the old cowboy replied as he sat upon the nearest stool.

"You got the money, honey?"

"What'll you take?"

"Depends on what you've got."

Jonah reached into his duster and pulled out some shotgun shells, a handful of .45 caliber brass casings, and a tin of chewing tobacco.

"Keep the casings." the bartender said as she went to grab a bottle labeled "JIM BEAM".

Just then, Jonah heard a laugh from a nearby booth. A quick glance revealed the source to be a woman of mixed Anglo and Asian descent dressed in a red hooded ensemble, her sleeves rolled up to reveal several tattoos with a distinct Navajo influence on both her upper arms. On the floor beside her were a recurve bow and a quiver full of arrows.

"So, what brings you and your ghostly pal to this little establishment?" she asked, her commanding contralto voice managing to ever-so-slightly intimidate the old cowboy.

"Just here for the hooch. How 'bout you?" came the reply.

"Come closer and I'll tell you."

Right on cue, a glass of bourbon slid across the bar, and Jonah's steely gaze shifted from the mysterious archer to Phantasma.

"Didn't she ask for y-"

"If she tries anything, you'll have a hell of a lot less to worry about."

Phantasma nodded before proceeding to lazily drift over to the booth.

"So, what's your name?" the ghostly former Grimwood student asked.

"Lian Harper- or if you're feeling businesslike, Arrowette."

"Well, Arrowette, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? And where'd you get those tattoos?"

The archer took a swig of her own drink.

"First question- I'm between contracts right now and nobody seems in any hurry to take me up. As for the second, I got 'em back in a little town in my homeland called Díchʼíító. Or as you palefaces might call it, Bitter Springs."

Jonah's head swiveled around to face Arrowette.

" Sister, watch who you're calling 'paleface' around here. 'sides, you don't look like you've got any Injun blood in your veins."

If looks could kill, then the glare that Arrowette gave to Jonah would've brought an end to the latter's Lazarus Pit-extended existence.

"You wanna say that again?" she snarled.

"Considering you're looking at a man who was adopted into the Apache, you ain't got much room to talk."

"The hell I do! You're looking at a born and bred Navajo h-"

"Okay, let's not let our tempers get the better of us. Arrowette, Mister Hex- both of you say you're sorry and let's move on." Phantasma interrupted.

"Sorry for calling you an Injun." Jonah said, extending a hand in peace.

A moment later, Arowette extended her own, and the two shook on it. Just then, Hex's walkie-talkie went off, the words "F. JONES" on the screen.

"Hello?"

"_Hex, we've got a situation._"

"What kind of situation?"

"_Scooby says that Shaggy's been kidnapped- and before you ask, even he doesn't know where Shaggy's been taken off to._"

Arrowette grimaced.

"Your friend's probably been dragged off to Lord Arena." she said.

"_Who's that at your end? And what's this 'Lord Arena' she just mentioned?_"

"Gal I met at the saloon, calls herself Arrowette."

Jonah then turned his attention back to the archer.

"You heard the guy's question." he said, handing the walkie-talkie to her.

"Mister…Jones, is it?"

"_Are you that Arrowette woman Jonah just mentioned?_"

"Yes. Now, about Lord Arena-"

"_I'm all ears._"

"It's a fighting pit- used to be the basketball court in the Mabee Center. If I were you, I'd make a beeline for the place before your friend ends up spilling his guts out on the sand."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

If you're wondering who Lian Harper is, she's the daughter of Roy Harper (the original Speedy) and recurring Titans villain Cheshire. While she's primarily remembered these days for her pointless demise in the abysmal 2009 miniseries _Cry for Justice_, at least one incarnation of the character (for the record, the one seen in the superb 1998 miniseries _Kingdom Come_) did make to adulthood, where she took up the identity of Red Hood,which according to the trade paperback's companion volume _Revelations_, was based on Little Red Riding Hood and not the Joker's previous alias.

And yes, her outfit here is indeed based on the costume she wore in _Kingdom Come_. As for her claims to Navajo ancestry, this is from her father's backstory, where he was adopted by a Navajo medicine chief after his biological father died. And on another note, next chapter will reveal why the fighting pit that Shaggy has found himself in is called Lord Arena.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Dying Time's Here

Shaggy was shaking like a leaf as the pitboss shoved him out of the locker room and onto a sand-covered basketball court, the terrified gumshoe clutching a combat knife in his hand. As he entered the arena proper, his gaze drifted up to the stands, where hundreds of spectators waited with bated breath. Just then, the sound of microphone feedback wafted down from on high for about four or five seconds.

"_Good day, ladies and gentlemen and boys and girls of Tulsa! This is your dear leader Overboss Maxwell Lord speaking, and I welcome you once again to Suerte y Muerte! For those of you new to this fine spectacle of mortal combat, allow the aedile to break down the rules!_"

A few moments later, another voice echoed from the old speakers.

"_My friends, the rules of Suerte y Muerte are simple- two men enter, one man leaves._"

From his position on the floor, Shaggy could swear he heard someone say the phrase from somewhere in the nosebleed seats, with the number of chanters doubling with each repetition until the entire arena resounded with those six words: "_Two men enter, one man leaves!_" As the chanting swelled, his opponent stepped into the ring- a wiry young man with a head of blond hair and clutching a tomahawk in his hand.

"_Over here, we have the reigning champion of the arena: the finest warrior the Utes in the mountains ever produced, your favorite Injun and mine, Kamandi!_"

The crowd erupted into cheers at the proclamation.

"_And over here, we have our latest contender- while he may be a man with no name, perhaps he will earn one if he survives! And now, my friends, we've got two men with a gut full of fear. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, dying time's here!_"

As the noise of the crowd echoed through his ears, Shaggy looked Kamandi over, noticing a conflicted look in the arena champion's eyes. Just then, the sound of a gong echoed across the court, and the fight began.

* * *

_A few blocks from Leone's Saloon_

"So, who'd you say was in charge around here?" Fred asked the crew's latest addition.

Arrowette leaned in from her spot in the back of the Mystery Machine.

"Guy named Maxwell Lord. According to my dad, he was a businessman back before the war, and apparently had psychic powers as w-"

The Mystery Machine suddenly made a sharp turn, sending Arrowette tumbling into Ace, who in turn tumbled into Tanis.

"Well, that's just dandy." Jonah groused, taking a moment to push Scooby off his chest.

* * *

The ring of steel against steel filled the air as Shaggy and Kamandi clashed.

"You fight well, my friend. My only regret is that we cannot fight as brothers in battle." the latter said, raising his tomahawk.

Before Kamandi could bring the weapon down upon him, Shaggy broke out into a forward roll, dodging the incoming axehead just in the nick of time. As Kamandi tugged on his now-embedded weapon, Shaggy took advantage of the distraction to land a few slashes on his opponent.

"_Looks like our new contender has a few tricks up his sleeve- perhaps Kamandi's winning streak isn't as secure as we thought, my friends! Anyways, let us liven things up with a little music, shall we?_"

Right on cue, the rest of the speakers came to life, blaring heavy metal throughout the arena.

* * *

"So, what exactly _is_ our plan to bust Shaggy out of there?" Fred asked.

"We wing it." Arrowette replied.

"You're kidding, right? There's no way we're going into a gladiatorial arena and winging it!"

"But we have Phantasma on our side!" Tanis piped up.

"Like a single ghost can help us against however many maniacs are in attendance for that fight to the death."

"Fred, I think Tanis is right about this one." Ace said.

* * *

Blood and sweat ran down both Kamandi and Shaggy's bodies as they continued to fight, both the heavy metal and the crowd's ceaseless chanting blurring together to form a wall of white noise. Thus far, Kamandi was the more visibly wounded of the two, his exposed trunk and stomach pockmarked with fresh slash wounds. In contrast, while Shaggy's armor had protected him from most of his opponent's attacks, Kamandi had managed to land a lucky strike on his forehead. While it had fortunately failed to reach his skull, there was now a shallow bloodied gash upon the site of impact.

"_And now comes the best part, my friends- a demonstration of blood and steel and grit in a struggle fought on the razor edge of death, each combatant only a single tiny mistake away from their demise!_" the aedile proclaimed.

As if to punctuate the point, Shaggy lashed out with his knife, the blade striking Kamandi's master forearm and sending a gout of blood into the air. Almost immediately, the blond-haired champion clutched his arm in pain, and his tomahawk clattered on the arena's floor.

"_Now, my friends, comes the climax of our festivities! Before you is Kamandi upon his knees, groveling for mercy before the victor! Now, new contender- finish him!_"

As Shaggy approached his fallen opponent, he noticed that the heavy metal had stopped, and that the crowd had now started chanting "_Finish him!_" instead of their earlier mantra. A glance at Kamandi himself revealed a look of utter dread and terror in the former champion's eyes.

_Screw those guys._ Shaggy thought.

And with that, he leaned in closer to the cowering Kamandi and proceeded to extend an empty hand to his rival.

"Take it, man." he said.

Kamandi then reached out and obliged, and Shaggy helped him to his feet, both men ignoring the jeers, boos, and hisses coming from the audience.

"_This is not how it works!_" the aedile bellowed.

"Hey, I gave you all your show! So why aren't you entertained?!"

The crowd once again began to chant "_Two men enter, one man leaves!_", this time with rage and venom riding on every word. As far Shaggy could tell, the only way this would end would be in a full-bore riot. Fortunately for him, it was at that moment that fate decided to throw him and Kamandi a lifeline in the form of an old cowboy and a hyperactive, musically inclined ghost.

"Alright, which one of you screwheads is in charge of this fighting pit?" Jonah asked.

"That would be me." the aedile said.

"Well then- how about me and you give these savages a show they won't forget?"

"I've got a better idea. Security- deal with this lunatic!"

Right on cue, a number of men in biker leathers and clutching sawed-off double-barreled shotguns barged into the arena, their weapons aimed squarely at Jonah.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" the old cowboy asked as he drew his revolver.

Right on cue, one of the men collapsed, a gaping, smoldering hole running through the center of his body. Behind him was Daphne, her face covered by her bandana and an old ski mask she'd dug out of the Mystery Machine. As one of the others raised his gun, his body was promptly riddled with arrows.

* * *

"So, how do we get out of here?" Shaggy asked Kamandi.

"Just follow me and you'll be fine. At least once we get past the pitboss." came the reply.

Right on cue, said pitboss sprinted right into the duo's line of sight, charging right for them.

"Like, you were saying?"

Before the charging flunky could close the gap, Shaggy could swear he saw a familiar ethereal shape dart into the fray, followed by the pitboss's eyes suddenly taking on a blue glow.

"Like, let's get out of here, man!"

"Agreed!" Kamandi replied.

And with that, both men broke out into a sprint, Shaggy following right on Kamandi's heels.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

And continuing with the obscure DC character roundup, we have Kamandi- a character created by Jack Kirby at the behest of DC editor Carmine Infantino when DC failed to acquire the license to make _Planet of the Apes_ comics, with the original Kamandi comics themselves being essentially a poor man's version of the aforementioned _Planet of the Apes_, albeit with a wider variety of humanoid animals running the show in the wake of humanity's decline. Though speaking of that particular aspect of Kamandi's lore, trust me when I say that I'll find some way to incorporate it into this fic.

Also, this should go without saying, but the backstory for this particular version of Kamandi will be revealed further on down the road.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: We Gotta Get Out Of This Place

_The Mystery Machine- several minutes later_

"So, who's your friend?" Jonah asked Shaggy as he reloaded his revolver.

"My name is Kamandi, and I am of the Mountain Ute tribes." the former pit fighter replied.

Jonah proceeded to open his mouth, only for Arrowette to shoot him a disapproving glare.

"So, were any of your kinfolk part of the Ute Nation before the war?" he finally asked.

"I do not believe so. According to the elders of my tribe, I was a foundling, discovered within the ruins of a mountain bunker known as 'Command-D'."

Before Jonah could reply, a bullet pierced through one of the rear doors, narrowly missing most of the vehicle's occupants before it struck Tanis, prompting an "_OW!_" from her.

"All in favor of using the bandaged kid as a shield, say 'Aye'!" Jonah piped up, promptly earning a dirty look from everyone else.

"I'm just saying-"

Another bullet pierced the door, again striking Tanis

"Son of a bitch!" Arrowette exclaimed.

"Like, watch your language!"

"Reah- ranguage!"

Daphne turned her head to face her longtime friend.

"Shaggy, you know how to operate Vera?"

"You _named_ the plasma gun?" Fred asked.

"Keep driving!"

"I think so."

"Then use it!"

Shaggy nodded as he grabbed the weapon in question.

"Um, can someone, like, get the doors?" he asked as he donned the back-mounted power pack.

Right on cue, the doors seemingly flung themselves open.

"Thanks!"

As Shaggy maneuvered into firing position, his jaw dropped at what he saw behind the Mystery Machine. Roaring through the streets were a number of souped-up muscle cars, the lead one sporting a machine gun mounted on a remotely operated articulated mount on the hood.

_Well, here goes nothing._

Shaggy suppressed a tremor as he lined up the shot, praying that it would strike true as he switched the fire selector from "SAFE" to "SEMI-AUTO". A moment later, he pulled the trigger, sending a blue bolt of plasma soaring through the air. Almost immediately after the bolt made impact, the car exploded, the force of the detonation sending it tumbling into the air.

_Like, score one for us!_

Before he could celebrate his minor victory, Shaggy noticed someone leaning out the passenger window of the new lead car- and that someone was clutching a submachine gun. A moment later, the enemy gunner let loose a staccato burst of fire, with one of the inbound bullets managing to graze Shaggy's cheek.

"Don't just stand there- shoot them!" Daphne screamed.

Suddenly, the Mystery Machine made a sharp turn, threatening to send Shaggy tumbling out of the van if not for some unseen force keeping his feet anchored to the floor. Once again, Shaggy pulled the trigger, discharging another bolt of plasma and destroying another vehicle. As he stood there, adrenaline coursing through his veins, he thought he could hear a straining noise. A quick glance behind revealed the source to be Ace, a small trickle of blood running from her right nostril.

"Hurry! Can't…keep this up…much l-"

And with that, Ace collapsed into a heap on the floor.

"What just happened?!" Arrowette exclaimed.

"We'll explain later! In the meantime, I suggest you all brace yourselves!" Fred replied.

Just then, Shaggy noticed something.

"Like, those guys behind us? They're breaking off!"

Daphne let out a sigh of relief.

"So now what do we do?" she wearily asked.

"Meet back up with the others and get the hell out of this place." Fred replied.

_Ask a stupid question…_

* * *

_They should've been back by now._ Velma thought as she idly paced along the length of the tour bus.

As if in reply to her thought, the Mystery Machine suddenly raced up to the old gas station/RV stop.

"Well, it's about ti-"

"_GET IN!_" Fred exclaimed.

Velma's only response was to promptly clamber into the back of the van.

"So, who're our new friends?" she asked as she noticed the two strangers in the noticeably cramped space.

" We'll explain later! In the meantime, hold onto something!" Daphne replied as she reached out for the CB radio speaker.

"Can someone explain what's g-"

"Luna- how soon will it be until you're ready to leave?"

"_We've been ready for about…oh, half an hour. Same with Dana and her friends in the comms van. Why do you ask?_"

"Let's just say we've managed to get under the skin of the local overlord."

"_Damn- you sure know how to pick 'em!_"

"Spare the commentary and just get to driving!"

"_Got it! Luna, out!_"

Just then, the CB squawked again.

"Yes?"

"_Mystery Machine, I don't mean to alarm you_-"

"Spare the formalities, Dana!"

"_Max's picked up on some of the local comms chatter, and it looks like local law enforcement's-_"

" Yeah, we know! Just tell us the fastest way out of this place!"

"_The old US-64 looks like our best bet- lucky us that we're already next t-_"

"Then let's get the hell out of here before the local brute squads show up!"

"_ Where to?_"

Daphne's eyes gravitated to the nearby roadmap before focusing on a nearby dot.

"Pawnee!"

"_10-4!_"

A few moments later, the small convoy left the station with one simple objective: put as much distance between them and Tulsa as fast as possible.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Yes, I am aware that the gang's escape from Tulsa may have been a bit too easy, but like the showdown with Mary Seward back in _Marie, Reine du Sang_, things are going to get far tougher in just a bit.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Linger and Lie Low

_Pawnee, Oklahoma- about an hour later_

"_Ace? Ace, can you hear me?_"

The girl's eyes fluttered open, and she saw a familiar red-haired figure kneeling over her.

"D-d-daphne?" she stammered.

She had barely finished speaking when Daphne leaned in and grabbed her in an overjoyed embrace.

"You're okay!" the latter exclaimed, unconsciously tightening her arms around Ace.

"…can't breathe…"

" You had us so worried when you collapsed like that!"

"…need air…" Ace choked.

It was at that moment that rational thought pierced Daphne's fit of ecstasy, and her grip around the girl slackened.

"So, how're you feeling?" she asked as she finally settled back into emotional normality.

"Hungry." Ace replied.

Daphne's hand shot into her hip pouch, and she pulled out an energy bar.

"This should tide you over until dinner."

* * *

_Pawnee City Hall- approx. a quarter mile from Mystery Inc. and company's campground_

"So let me get this straight- you managed to anger Maxwell Lord and figured your best bet was to hide in our territory." the local leader said.

"That's just about the shape of things, Mister- um, what's your title?" Velma replied.

"Chief will suffice."

"So, Chief Littlesun, will you let us lie low around here until things quiet down?" Fred asked.

"We will- though in exchange, we have a favor to ask of you."

"What sort of a favor?" Velma asked.

Chief Littlesun grew quiet.

"We've had some violent deaths in the area over the past few days, and the people are getting jumpy."

"Is there anything else you can tell us about these deaths?" Fred asked.

"According to the autopsies, the wounds on those killed are not consistent with any weapons that the killer could easily find on our lands- in fact, they appear to more closely resemble wounds inflicted by animals."

"Do you have any pictures of the bodies?" Velma asked.

"We have them in the archives, yes."

"May we see them?"

"Yes."

* * *

"So, what's on the menu for dinner?" Shaggy asked as he and Scooby wandered over to an uncompleted fire pit.

Arrowette looked up from her current task of stacking firewood.

"Chili con carne and damper bread."

"Like, what's damper bread?"

" Australian soda bread- perennial favorite of those traveling through the bush. It's filling, damned easy to make, and in my experience, it goes well with most game."

Just then, something crossed Arrowette's mind.

"Word of warning- the chili's an old family recipe, so it might be a _bit_ hotter than you're used to." she said.

* * *

"Come in." Thorn said as she heard a knock on the front lounge door.

The door proceeded to open, and in stepped one of the soldiers from Scrapheap, her black hair now dyed a vibrant pink.

"So, you must be Max." the former lead singer of the Hex Girls said as she returned to her previous work- in this case, chopping green peppers for the night's meal.

" Correct." came the reply.

"So, what brings you in from the comms van?"

"Let me put it this way- whatever happened in Tulsa, it painted a target on our backs so big that you could see it from orbit." Max replied.

"How bad are we talking?"

"If the transmissions I've just intercepted are true, then Maxwell Lord-"

"Who?"

"The man in charge of Tulsa. Anyways, as I was saying, he's put a bounty on, and I quote, 'those responsible for aiding in the escape of Kamandi and his then-current opponent, in addition to any of their current associates'."

Thorn gulped, and the knife fell from her hands.

"How much?"

"20,000 energy dollars per head And if you're wondering what that is, it's scrip backed by Lord's oil reserves."

"Well, this is just _peachy_."

"It could be worse." Max replied.

"How?"

"We could be in the sights of one of Eiling's kill teams."

"As opposed to what?"

"Numerous bounty hunters, both professional and amateur, all looking to cash us in dead or alive."

"And let me guess- they'll all be converging on us _here_."

"Odds are that they won't- from what I've heard, the Pawnee nation prohibits bounty hunting."

"That's a-"

"So they'll wait until we're out of their borders and close in us _then_."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Hot Meals, Cold Hearts

"And here it is, gang- the first proper dinner we've had in a long while!" Shaggy proclaimed as he set a large pot of chili and a couple loaves of damper bread upon the dining table.

From her seat at the table, Sibella took a deep breath as her old coach ladled a generous portion of the spicy stew into her waiting soup bowl.

"Who do we have to thank for this fang-tastic dish?" she asked.

" You can thank me." Arrowette replied.

"Like, don't just sit there- dig in!" Shaggy piped up.

As Sibella took her first bite, an unfamiliar sensation worked its way through her nerves. In place of the usual mild burning pain she had come to associate with the hot peppers of the American Southwest, there was naught but an intense, searing agony.

"IT TASTES LIKE FIRE!" she screamed.

Nearby, Phantasma had taken on a distinctly reddish hue, her ectoplasmic form rapidly twitching like mad.

"Ain't half bad." Jonah said as he took another spoonful.

"_ARE YOU ****ING KIDDING ME?!_" Dusk screamed.

"Well, it's better than our milrats…" Dana said, desperately trying to keep up a smile as tears ran down her face.

From her spot at the table, Ace shakily raised her hand.

"May I be excused? I think I'm full…" she said.

All eyes drifted towards the girl. Sitting before her was an empty soup bowl and a half-eaten loaf of damper bread.

"Like, how'd you finish so quickly?" Shaggy asked.

"I take big bites. Besides, the bread helps with the burning."

"Huh. And here I thought I was the only one who remembered that trick." Daphne said.

There was a long silence over the dinner table.

"So, guys- it looks like the locals need our services." Fred finally said.

"Okay, I'll bite: what're we dealing with this time? Livestock mutilations? A creature from the local folklore stealing supplies of food, water, or trade goods? Rash of suspiciously similar deaths?" Daphne asked.

"Last one."

"So, what's the nature of the beast? Any favored methods or targets? Any calling cards?"

"There doesn't appear to be any common thread with the victims- who or whatever the killer is, it goes after both locals and outsiders. As for methods and calling cards, the most common causes of death appear to be either severe head trauma or massive blood loss- and if what we've seen from the autopsy photos are anything to go by, the killer seems to be feeding on the corpses." Velma said.

"Sounds like we're either dealing with local wildlife or a band of feral mutants if you ask me." Daphne replied.

"You sure it isn't just regular garden-variety cannibals?" Terry asked.

"Considering some of the wounds we saw in the pictures, I highly doubt it. As for us, I recommend we take some more precautions than normal once nightfall hits."

"What sort of precautions?" Thorn asked.

"Double up on sentries and buddy system for going to the latrine. And for the love of all that is holy, all of you make sure you're carrying your walkie-talkie!"

Another pregnant silence settled over the table.

"So, what about investigating the killings?" Daphne asked.

"Shaggy, Scooby, Sibella, and I'll go keep watch over the site of the most recent killing and see if who or what's responsible decides to come back." Velma replied.

* * *

_A few hours later_

The night air was still and silent apart from the whisper of the wind. Standing out on the perimeter were Jonah and Thorn, the former holding an old lever-action rifle and the latter clutching a more modern semiautomatic. As the tension mounted, Thorn began nervously whistling, the first few bars of "All Along The Watchtower" drifting into Jonah's ears.

"Nerves gettin' to you too?" the old cowboy asked.

Thorn nodded.

"Try this- it helps." Jonah said, extending a cigarette to his fellow sentry.

"Sorry, but I don't smoke- gotta keep these million-dollar pipes working right, y'know?"

"It's your funeral."

* * *

"You and Velma got anything, Sibella?" Shaggy asked into his walkie-talkie.

"_Couple of locals on horseback- looks like a hunting party, if the deer on the roan mare's anything to go by._" the former Grimwood student replied.

Just then, Scooby tensed up and pointed forward in the direction of the other two members of the team.

"Like, what is it, Scoob?"

"Ranger!"

"Can't be- we're too far out from Texas and anywhere near New Mexico or Arizona."

"Rot that rind of ranger!"

"Oh, you mean 'danger'! Um, what sort of danger are we talking here?"

As if on cue, Shaggy's walkie-talkie squawked.

"Hello?"

"_Looks like we've found the killers, and it's just as we feared!_" Velma exclaimed.

"What're you talking about?"

"_Feral mutants- big ones!_"

"Like, how big?"

The only sound from the other end was that of a shotgun blast.

"Well, looks like we don't have a choice, Scoob. We're going in."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Considering that Arrowette's "old family recipe" for chili was the same one used by Green Arrow, Mystery Inc. and company got off light- in the comics, only Green Arrow and Batman have been able to eat it straight without any ill effects. For reference, this chili has proven hot enough to force Superman to use his freeze breath to cool it down before eating it and to break Hal Jordan's will and render him unable to continue eating it.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Children of the Night

_A few minutes prior to Shaggy receiving Velma's transmission_

Velma's blood ran cold as she saw the mutants. Before her and Sibella were two or three gaunt figures about seven feet high, covered in sallow leathery skin pulled tightly over their wiry frames. An examination of the face of the one closest to her revealed yellow-gray eyes sunk deep into their sockets, a mouth drawn into a rictus that exposed a full set of sharp teeth more at home in the maw of a shark than in anything mammalian, a pair of malformed, almost vestigial ram-like horns on the side of its head just above the ears, and a pair of freshly-bloodied, scarred lips- all rounded out by a scalp topped with unkempt, stringy hair that had fallen out in clumps. Further study revealed that its fingers terminated in large claws. Had Velma not known better, she would've sworn that she was currently face-to-face with a wendigo.

_So, should we take them on?_ Sibella signed.

"Let's at least see if they have some remaining rationality." Velma replied, her voice a barely audible whisper.

Just then, one of the mutants turned to face the two women.

"Hello. My name is Velma Dink-"

The mutant's only response was a feral growl, followed by a swipe of its claws at the orange-clad detective.

"_Now_ we can shoot them!" Velma exclaimed.

Sibella gave a quick nod as she raised a sawed-off shotgun she'd picked up in Tulsa, pointing it at the mutant's torso. A split-second later, the gun fired twice in rapid succession, discharging a blast of buckshot from each barrel that sent the mutant staggering backwards with seemingly no other effect.

"Oh, come on!" Sibella snapped.

"Allow me to handle this." Velma replied.

She then raised her own shotgun, aimed it at the creature's head, and fired. A fraction of a second later, the head exploded into a cloud of brains and bone fragments, and the thing toppled over into a lifeless heap on the ground.

"Now _that_ was fang-tastic!"

"Don't thank me yet- we've got that thing's friends to deal with!"

And as the two other mutants turned their icy gaze towards Velma and Sibella, the two women knew what their next course of action would be- call for backup.

* * *

_Now_

"Six o'clock!" Velma exclaimed as she loaded another shell into her shotgun.

Sibella promptly swiveled around and blasted one of the remaining inbound mutants square in the chest with her weapon, the shot seemingly doing nothing but leave superficial holes in its leathery hide.

"If we die, I'm blaming you!" she fired back.

Just then, another gunshot rang out in the distance, and the mutant toppled over. Sibella shot a quick glance over her shoulder, and saw the subtle glint of a telescopic sight from behind.

"Fang-tastic shot, Shaggy!"

The final standing specimen promptly turned tail and fled into the night, leaving the quartet on their own.

"So, does this mean we've solved the mystery?" Sibella asked.

"Only partially. Now we need to figure out where exactly those things came from and why they've decided to start preying on the townsfolk." Velma replied.

* * *

"So, you think there's a chance that everything east of St. Louis didn't get nuked into oblivion?" Dusk asked as she and Arrowette stood guard.

"Wouldn't rule it out. Thing is, it's a bitch and a half to cross the Mississippi these days, and even if we wanted to get across, the Big Muddy's crawling with pirates and mutated animals- last time I was around New Orleans, I saw an alligator somewhere in the ballpark of 25 feet lurking through what used to be one of the city's suburbs." came the reply.

"Wait, New Orleans is still around?"

"For a given measure of 'still around', yes. Unfortunately, there's been a bit of a change in management since the bombs dropped."

"Lemme guess- some hopped-up Errol Flynn wannabe's crowned himself king of the pirates."

" Yes, but the good 'Captain' Peter Bard is being backed up by some more…supernatural players. At least if what I've heard in the dockside taverns is true."

"I'll take 'Anne Rice wannabes' for one thousand, Alex." Dusk snarked.

"It's not vampires."

"Then what?"

"See, there's this island out in one of the nearby bayous- Moonscar Island, I think it's called. Anyways, according to local rumor, Bard's main backer is a woman named Simone Lenoir-"

"Wait, don't tell me- this Lenoir woman's got her hand so far up Bard's ass that she's using him as her puppet."

"That's the gist of it."

Just then, the two women heard the sound of footsteps approaching the camp.

"Who goes there?" Arrowette asked, leveling her bow in the general direction of the presumed source.

"_Like, just us._" came the reply.

"_Reah- rust us!_" another voice added.

Arrowette stood down as Shaggy and Scooby entered her line of sight, followed shortly thereafter by Velma and Sibella.

"So, how'd it go out there?" Dusk asked.

"Found the culprits responsible for the deaths- turns out it was feral mutants. No idea where they came from or why they've started going after the locals though." Velma answered.

"Speaking from experience, odds are good that their primary food supply's started running low and they're getting desperate. As for why, it's a tossup between the locals accidentally overhunting or someone else deliberately trying to screw with their food supply." Arrowette added.

"And speaking of food, how about we, like, get to work on making breakfast?"


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: The Day the World Died

"So, what was it like?" Ace asked as she and Daphne sat before the rising sun.

"What was what like?" Daphne replied as she ran a comb through her ward's hair.

"The day the bombs dropped."

Daphne blinked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because whenever I asked Mom and Dad, they always danced around the question."

Daphne sighed.

"Well, here's what it was like for me and the rest of Mystery Incorporated…"

* * *

_Roswell, New Mexico- several years ago_

"…love you too, Mom, and I'll see you then. Bye."

Daphne put the phone back in its cradle as she went to rejoin the others sitting before the small motel room's TV set.

"So, how'd it go?" Fred asked.

"Well, Mom wants me back in Crystal Cove by next Friday to welcome Delilah back home from her latest tour of duty."

"Isn't she-"

"Yes, she's the Marine. And God knows she'll be going on about how much of a badass she was in Santa Prisca while Mom and Dad ask me why I haven't gotten an actual job y-"

Just then, the current TV show was replaced with a test card, and a series of chilling words filled the air.

"_We interrupt this program. This is a national emergency. The President of the United States or his designated representative will appear shortly over the Emergency Broadcast System._"

Right on cue, the image of a haggard-looking President Richardson appeared on screen.

"_Good day, my fellow Americans. As of fifteen minutes ago, our early-warning radar stations have picked up a number of ICBM launches from Soviet and Chinese installations, along with multiple inbound high-altitude bombers. May God help us all._"

The image changed to that of the local station's studio, the announcer taking on a panicked tone.

"_All viewers and listeners are encouraged to find shelter immediately. If you are in a building, get to the inner part of it, and try to get underground if possible. Stay away from windows, and above all else, don't panic. To borrow a quote from Frank Herbert, fear is the mind-killer. This is KOBR, standing by._"

As the station's regular test card appeared, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Like, if this it, then I'd like to say that it's been an honor knowing you guys." Shaggy finally said.

"Reah!" Scooby added.

Minutes passed, with all members of the quintet trembling and shivering in anticipation, their minds racing with questions and nightmarish speculations.

"So, does anyone want to make any last confessions?" Fred asked.

Suddenly, the test card reappeared, and was replaced by the KOBR newsman_._

"_We are getting reports from our fellow NBC affiliates on the Eastern Seaboard of confirmed nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania- now one in Blüdhaven- airburst off the coast of Gotham- another airburst over the outskirts of Metropolis- Star City, Coast City, Keystone City, Central City, Steel City, Jump City- one off Fawcett City- my God, we can't keep up!_"

Just then, Shaggy shot up from the couch and bolted towards the phone.

"Where're you going?" Velma asked.

"_To call my sister and see if she's okay!_"

* * *

_Present day_

"So, what happened to your big sister?" Ace asked.

"I don't know. Maybe she was caught in one of the blasts, or maybe she went off somewhere else. All I can do is hope she's still alive out there." Daphne replied.

Just then, the sound of a triangle dinner bell filled the air, followed by Shaggy's proclamation of "_Chow call!_"

"Guess we'll have to pick this up later." Daphne said.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

If you're wondering why Gotham and Metropolis weren't annihilated, it was because of Supergirl and Superman's respective interventions. As for where the Man of Steel is in this Elseworld, he's off trying to pick up the pieces elsewhere, ditto Supergirl. And if you're wondering why Superman didn't manage to save the rest of the JLA's hometowns when the nukes were raining down, chalk it up to him only being able to be in so many places at once.

As for some of the other DC heroes, Batman and the rest of the Bat-Family are still keeping law and order in Gotham (except for Barbara Gordon, though to say more about her whereabouts would be a massive spoiler for things to come).


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: History Shows Again and Again

"So, where's the furthest you've ever been?" Arrowette asked as she and Jonah made their way up to a small patch of woods just outside of Pawnee.

"Before or after everything went to Hell?" Jonah replied.

"Either."

"The Yukon, back during the gold rush there. You?"

"San Francisco."

Jonah took a long drag on his cigarette.

"So, what's it like up in the Paris of the West these days?" he asked.

"Considering it had the rotten luck to be in the blast radius of a nuke and then get hit by a massive earthquake in rapid succession, a hell of lot better than it should be. Anyways, let's get back to work on tracking down those mutants, shall we?"

"I don't think that'll be much of an issue."

"And why do you say that, Mister Hex?"

Jonah pointed at a nearby set of fresh footprints leading into the woods.

* * *

"Something on your mind, Thorn?" Velma asked as the Hex Girl in question idly picked at her pancakes.

"Beyond the usual thoughts of existential dread about the generation who's going to replace us, not really." came the reply.

"Come again?"

"She means she's worried about me and other kids my age further messing up the world when you all eventually die." Ace piped up.

"Okay, can you stop reading our minds like that?! Because it's getting creepy!" Dusk snapped.

"I can't really help it!"

"Well, think of a brick wall or something!"

"Is that from something from before the war?"

"…you know what? Next chance we get, we're going to find a video rental place or a library and get you some tapes to watch!"

* * *

"So, what've we got?" Jonah asked as he and Arrowette laid prone on a nearby hillock.

The wandering archer let out a quiet 'hmmm' as she observed a small band of four or five mutants through her old and battered set of binoculars.

"Translation?"

"Doesn't look like they're strictly anthropophagites."

"Which-what?"

"They eat other things besides people, at least if the half-butchered deer, coyote, and horse carcasses are anything to go by."

"Then why didn't you say so in a language other than highfalutin?"

"Because I found a bunch of those old word-of-the-day calendars during my travels up in NorCal, and by God I'm going to get my time's worth out of them."

There was a brief silence as Arrowette gathered her thoughts.

"Judging by the comparative lack of deer and coyote carcasses, it's starting to look like I was right. All that's left is to figure out the hows and whys-"

Just then, three gunshots filled the air in rapid succession, followed almost immediately by the yelp of a coyote.

"What the Sam Hill-"

"That confirms it- someone is definitely and deliberately screwing with the mutants' food supply."

"And you know this _how_?" Jonah asked.

"Most hunters don't use three-round-bursts when going after anything that isn't, say, either a highly dangerous carnivore or a wild hog. After all, you're not going to unnecessarily waste ammo on something slated for the cooking fire and/or the tanning rack. Like every good sniper, you're going for one shot, one kill when going after game."

"So just who do you think's responsible for this then?"

"Particularly clever band of militia of either the rogue or amoral varieties, a particularly nasty mercenary company with above-average intelligence- take your pick, 'cause there's someone out there in the wastes with both the necessary wits and lack of morals."

"Trust me, we had no shortage of those back in my day." Jonah replied.

"Yeah- whoever those assholes are, they're probably descendants of the bastards who thought it was a good idea to give the Amerindians smallpox blankets."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Lost and the Damned

_That afternoon_

"Well, what've we got here?" Arrowette asked as she, Jonah, Shaggy, Scooby, and Kamandi approached a trail of dried blood about twenty or thirty yards from the mutants' seemingly abandoned lair.

Mystery Inc.'s resident Great Dane leaned in and sniffed at the trail.

"Rells rike reople."

"Like, which way'd they go, Scoob?" Shaggy asked.

Scooby promptly pointed upwind before turning his nose back to the blood trail.

"Guess we're following the dog." Kamandi piped up.

"Congratulations, Sherlock- you're not nearly as dumb as you look!" Arrowette snarked.

"Cut the kid some slack, Harper. I mean, considering that he spent at least a few years in that arena, maybe whatever they gave to make him as big as an ox went and done leeched some of his smarts away. Or maybe he was dropped on his head as a kid." Jonah replied.

"Doesn't change that he thus far looks to be thick as a brick. Probably can't even re-"

"Is there some kind of law that says you have to a big ol' sequoia log up your keister? Besides, even if he ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer, he's still got brawn to spare."

"Like, he's got a point." Shaggy added.

An irritated growl emerged from Arrowette's throat as she turned her attention back to the blood trail. Just then, a distinctly human-sounding scream of pain came echoing through the woods.

"Should've kept your mouths shut, whoever you are." she proclaimed as she dashed up to the fringes of the woods.

"She's going to get herself killed. After all, the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack." Kamandi said.

"Traditional saying of your people?" Jonah asked.

"No, it's from someone named…Kipling, I think he's called?"

* * *

_Hastseoltoi, grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift._ Arrowette silently prayed as she ran through the fringes of the woods, clutching her bow in a vise-like grip. Through a gap in the trees, she saw a plume of smoke rising up into the air, the scents of cooking meat and burning wood entering her nostrils a scant second later.

_Jackpot._

As she drew closer to the source of the smoke, she slowed her pace and ducked into the underbrush, her camouflage-patterned outfit concealing her from all but the sharpest of eyes. Well-honed instincts kicked in, and the young archer crept through the foliage like a prowling wildcat, her attention focused solely on her prey.

_And what have we here?_

From her hiding place near the small campsite that was the source of the smoke, Arrowette's eyes flitted from target to target. Before her were five or six people (one of whom had a hastily bandaged wound on their leg) dressed in armor cobbled together from sports and motorcycling equipment, the torsos littered with bullet holes of various sizes. A second glance at the residents of the camp revealed that they had more than likely had rotten luck in regards to finding food, if their relatively scrawny (though not emaciated) frames were anything to go by.

_Well, aren't you all a clever bunch of raiders? It won't save you, but I do appreciate that you're not a bunch of doped-up psychotics with a single shared brain cell._

Just as she leveled her bow at the one she was sure was the leader of the bunch- in this case, an abnormally buff man with a pink mohawk and Cherokee-inspired tattoos- she heard a noise she'd been dreading: a dog's bark from behind her.

_Oh, son of a-_

As if on autopilot, Arrowette leapt from her hiding spot and wrapped her arms around her target. A split-second later, she reached down to her belt and drew a hunting knife before putting it to her hostage's throat in a single fluid motion.

"One wrong move from any of you screwheads and I slit his throat." she coldly announced.

"_What if it's us?_"

Arrowette's eyes narrowed as she saw her companions enter her line of sight.

"Dammit, Hex! I had a plan going h-"

"Then why didn't you tell us about it?" Kamandi bluntly asked.

"Reah!" Scooby added.

"Because I had this handled! Now if you don't mind, I'll go ahead and deal with these raiders-"

"We'll talk!" one of the others exclaimed.

Arrowette blinked.

"What?"

"We'll talk- just don't kill us!"

Arrowette pulled her knife away and let her hostage go.

"So, who are you guys and what're you doing here?"

The leader of the bunch stood up.

"We're from a little village called Red Earth- it's just outside what used to be Oklahoma City. At least before we got driven out-"

"Driven out by who?" Arrowette snarled.

"Men in gray uniforms with black hats! We tried to put up a fight, but then their commander unleashed some…thing that looked like a man covered in purple and gold metal!"

"Why am I not surprised _he_ got to survive the end of the world?" Jonah growled before spitting onto the dirt.

"Anyways, you didn't, like, tell us why you're here." Shaggy piped up.

"We spent a few months wandering around, scavving and raiding, until we stumbled upon this place. Then Uktena, brain trust that he is, got it into his head that we could take the town." one of the other members of the group piped up.

"Needless to say, it didn't work, and we'd have probably moved on had Uktena not decided to try and weaponize some of the local ferals." another member, this one the sole woman of the bunch, added.

"Yeah, we can piece things out from there. Now then, all in favor of icing these SOBs now, say 'aye'!" Arrowette replied.

"Like, I've got a better idea- we hand them in to local law enforcement and let them handle this." Shaggy retorted.

"Newsflash, bucko- they're just going to execute them anyways!"

"Yeah, I know, but, like, carrying out sentence on criminals isn't our job."

He turned back to the leader of the raider band.

"So, 'Uktena'- you got anything else you want to tell us? Like, say, what's going on near Oklahoma City?"

"The invaders are moving fast to secure the primary central oilfields and surrounding settlements, and they have an alliance with Tulsa."

"Considering we found some of their scouts out in northwest Texas, odds are they've already got your old stomping grounds under their boot." Jonah replied.

Uktena sighed.

"Of course they'd have succeeded." he wearily said.

"Moving on, can you, like, tell us what the safest route out of Oklahoma is?" Shaggy asked.

"Go through the Panhandle and make a run for New Mexico. However, if what I've heard through the trucker grapevine is true, then you'll be dealing with road gangs from Boise City to Cimarron."

There was a long silence.

"Well, it's been a pleasure, but there's someone in town who's going to want to meet you all…" Jonah finally said.

* * *

_A few hours later_

"So, how much of what that pink-haired man said is true?" Kamandi asked as he and the others helped pack up the camp.

"You're asking about the road gangs, aren't you?" Arrowette replied.

The blond-haired Ute nodded.

"Well, last time I was there, these guys were the big players. First up you had White Lightning- basically a bunch of Neo-Nazi road warriors with a fondness for hardcore stimulants. Then you had the Jackals and the Vipers, who last I checked thought it'd be a good idea to take on the Desert Rangers. And finally, you've got the Khans, who, as the name suggests, decided to imitate good old Genghis Khan in terms of aesthetics."

"Who is this…Genghis Khan you speak of?"

Arrowette's palm collided with her face.

"Hey, Thorn? If we find a textbook repository, can we stop there?"

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

In case you're wondering, Hastseoltoi is the Navajo goddess of the hunt. As for the "thing that looked like a man covered in purple and gold metal" that the raider leader mentioned, that would be Major Force, the main nemesis of Captain Atom and the guy who originated what Gail Simone would term "Women in Refrigerators" when he killed Kyle Rayner's girlfriend and stuffed her body into the appliance in question.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Wanted Dead or Alive

_ Rhodes, Oklahoma- about two days' drive from Pawnee_

"Welcome to the Brass Lantern Motor Inn and Rest Stop. What can I do you for?" the woman behind the counter asked as Mystery Inc. filed in.

" Quick question- do you have seating for eighteen?" Fred asked.

"Lemme guess- you're part of a nomad convoy."

"I guess you could say that."

"Yeah, we've got seating for that big a party outside. Of course, you're gonna need to find a way to pay for that much food."

"You take trade goods?"

"Depends on what you've got. 'course, if you've got empty pockets, I'm sure we can make an arrangement."

"What sort of arrangement?" Daphne asked.

"See that radio over there?"

"What about it?" Velma asked.

"Some unsavory types passed through a while ago, and one of them 'accidentally' knocked it to the floor. Now, if you guys could fix it, it'd pay for at least some of your party's meals-"

Just then, Thorn, Dusk, and Luna came in, and the woman behind the counter blinked.

"They with you?"

Fred nodded, and the woman's attention turned to the new arrivals.

"You three the actual Hex Girls?"

"Who else would dress like this after the bombs?" Dusk fired back.

"Tell you what- you three give us a show, and that'll cover you and your friends' meals. Sound good?"

"Sure." Thorn replied.

"Then get going, 'cause I want some music outta you characters!"

Dusk had a broad grin on her face as she and the others made their way back to the tour bus.

"Finally- an actual gig!" she exclaimed.

* * *

"Mister Hex, what're you going to do with that knife?" Tanis asked as she saw Jonah and Arrowette seated at the table in the bus's front lounge, the latter's hand extended across the top.

"We're gonna play a little game."

Just then, Phantasma phased up through the floor.

"What sort of game?" she cheerily asked.

"Little something called five-finger fillet."

And with that, Jonah raised the knife and began stabbing the space between Arrowette's fingers, moving the blade back and forth at an increasingly quick pace until he eventually stopped.

"Isn't that a bit…dangerous?" Tanis asked.

"That's why it's fun!" Arrowette retorted.

"…you people are weird." Phantasma eventually said.

"Considering that you're an honest-to-God ghost, I don't think you have much room to talk."

"I hate to break up this stimulating discussion, but I believe our dear archer friend's entitled to perform a round of her own." Jonah said as he extended his own hand.

"That wouldn't be a very good idea." a nearby Ace piped up.

"Why not?"

"Because if you do, you're probably going to lose a finger or three because of the metal the blade was forged from."

"What kind of metal we talking here?"

"Atlantean steel." Arrowette replied.

"Sounds impressive, but what's so special about it?"

"Lemme put it this way- this blade'll go through pretty much anything you'll find in the wastes except power armor. Of course, your key to taking out anyone clad in that is to either get your hands on an anti-tank weapon or try and find the weak sp-"

Just then, someone began knocking on the bus doors.

"I'll get it!" Tanis exclaimed as she dashed off to the driver's compartment.

* * *

_Several minutes later_

"Ready, sisters?" Thorn asked as Dusk and Luna finished setting up their drums and keyboard respectively.

"Ready as we'll ever be!"

"Then let's hit it!"

And with that, the first few notes of "I'm A Hex Girl" filled the air, with the sound of cheering soon following as Thorn began to sing. In a far corner of the outdoor seating area, however, a shadowy man began to load his gun, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike- and that opportunity soon presented itself as the opening number reached its halfway point.

* * *

"_You'll feel the fog as I cloud your mind! You'll get dizzy when I make a sign! You'll wake up in the dead of ni-_" Thorn sang.

Before she could finish the verse, she was cut off by the sound of a gunshot, followed by the screams of a frightened audience.

"The hell is going on here?!"

"_Just me._"

Thorn rapidly turned her head around and saw a Mediterranean-looking man in a black duster, mirrorshades, a black Stetson, and a scraggly head of blond hair atop his head emerge from the panicking crowd, clutching a smoking custom-built revolver in one hand while wrapping his free arm around a nearby Shaggy's neck.

"Who are you and what're you doing with our friend?!" Dusk screamed.

"They call me the Saint, and I'm here to cash in on his bounty. Now if it's all the same to you, me and him'll start making tracks to Tul-"

Suddenly, there was a sound of several guns being drawn in unison as the Brass Lantern's bouncers emerged.

"Sonny, we have the right to refuse service to anyone." a nearby server proclaimed.

As the Saint stared down the interlopers, his grasp suddenly slightly loosened just enough for Shaggy to slip free. A moment later, the shooting between the Saint and the bouncers started.

* * *

"Goddamn hecklers…" Luna half-muttered as she ducked behind an overturned table, taking a moment to draw her .38 revolver.

"Less talking, more shooting!" Dusk replied, clutching her Ruger Redhawk as she and Thorn joined their bandmate.

"I think the security guys've got this covered-"

"_Nobody hurts our coach!_" a young woman piped up from the crowd.

From their vantage point behind the table, all three Hex Girls watched as a length of linen bandage wrapped around the Saint's wrist. A moment later, the length went taut, and the bounty hunter's revolver clattered on the ground.

"…the hell?" a dumbfounded Dusk asked.

* * *

Shaggy blinked as he saw the scene. Standing before him was the Saint, now disarmed, and behind _him_ was Tanis, clutching her end of the bandage like a lasso like she had done so all those years before during the showdown with Revolta.

"Like, thanks for the save."

"You're welcome!" Tanis replied.

The Saint growled as he tried to dive for his gun, only for another length of bandage to ensnare itself around one of his legs and send him toppling down a few good feet short of grasping distance.

"Oh, you might've gone on hunting, but you made one stupid slip!" Phantasma mockingly sang.

The Saint let out a contemptuous snort.

"Yeah, but I was the one who had the big iron on his hip." he jeered.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

The Saint is (very) loosely based on the "Saint of Killers" from Garth Ennis's _Preacher_\- more specifically, his mortal self before he became the literal Angel of Death (long story). As for whether or not he'll show up again in this fic, to say more would be a spoiler. Also, the "I want some music outta you characters" line is a reference to _Buckaroo Banzai_.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Post-Apocalyptic Geography With Professor Arrowette

"Well, it was nice of the Brass Lantern to give us all free food and board after that shootout." Daphne said as she and the rest of Mystery Inc. proceeded up to their rooms in the nearby motel.

"But why are the others not joining us?" Shaggy asked.

"Dana and her friends said they'd sleep in the Mystery Machine, while everyone else is going to find a place in the bus." Fred replied.

"Speaking of, I wonder how that's going…"

* * *

"You do realize you don't have to sleep on the floor, right?" Thorn asked as Arrowette laid herself down.

"You're right- I can go and sleep on the ground." came the reply.

"You don't need to do that either! There's enough bunks in here for all of us!"

Arrowette rolled her eyes as she settled into one of the lower bunks.

"…swear to God you're all soft…" she grumbled.

" Word of advice, kid- you keep sleeping on a bedroll night after night, you come to appreciate a good old fashioned mattress." Jonah replied.

"You had a horse to carry one, though- it's a hell of a lot harder to lug one a bedroll around on foot when you're going through someplace like Zion on foot."

" What's a Zion?" Ace innocently asked.

Arrowette clambered out of her bunk and glared at the little girl.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

"Take it easy on her- she's just a kid!" Thorn piped up.

"Besides, I don't think education's a high priority out here!" Dusk added.

"Well then- looks like I'm going to have to set the record straight, then. And if what I've heard about you and those three weirdos from Mockingbird is true, then you all could do with this class as well."

"What class?" Phantasma asked as she emerged through the wall.

* * *

A good few minutes later, the Hex Girls, Ace, the Grimwood alumni, and Kamandi were all seated in the front lounge while Arrowette stood before a heavily hand-annotated map that had been attached to the wall with no small amount of hastily-applied scotch tape.

"So, what's the point of all this?" Dusk grumbled.

Arrowette proceeded to clap one of Dusk's drumsticks against the wall.

"Raise your hand if you've got a question, missy!" she thundered.

"…worse than that guy we had in high school…" Luna muttered under her breath.

"Now that we've got everything started, let us begin with the basics- namely, who's running the show and where."

There was another _CLACK!_ as the archer struck the map, the business end of the drumstick situated atop the Four Corners.

"First order of business- Utah does not exist anymore. Nowadays, it's called Deseret, and as you can tell by the name, the Mormons're calling the shots in that neck of the woods- bunch of self-righteous teetotalers…"

Ace raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"What's a Mormon?"

"All you need to know is that they're a bunch of Christians who've got some…weird beliefs. Back on topic, here's what you need to know about Deseret- while they supposedly run the show over all of what used to be Utah, their actual hold on the territory doesn't go much further than the old Salt Lake City metro. Or as they've taken to calling it, 'New Canaan'. Of course, if those guys aren't your speed, then there's always the various bands of raiders and sky pirates."

Thorn's hand shot up.

"Yes?"

"And just who are those last guys?"

"Bands of aviators with a fondness for plunder, but what variety depends on which group you're dealing with. Speaking only for myself, it's a damn good idea to get into the good books of one of the more noble ones if for no other reason than you can get from contract to contract on time without having to deal with road gangs. Any questions?"

Tanis raised her hand.

"So, where've you been in that place?"

"New Canaan, Zion, Monument Valley, both the Wasatch and Uinta Mountains, and a number of other places. Moving on, let's discuss Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho all in one fell swoop, since there isn't too much worth discussing individually about them."

"Er-" Luna began, only to be cut off by the _CLACK!_ of the drumstick.

"Main thing you need to know about Montana is that there's gold mines up there, and the fine folks in New Canaan need it so that their money has other uses than wiping your rear with it. Though between you and me, those Mormons're a hell of a lot smarter than Max Lord- I mean, even if the mines go bust, the gold'll still be sitting in New Canaan's vaults and backing up the cas-"

"Get on with it!" Dusk exclaimed, her master hand twitching as she reached for her revolver.

"Anyways, back on topic, Wyoming's primary feature is that it's apparently the place where Eiling and his goons have their headquarters, while Idaho's still growing potatoes- and given the value of food in this day and age, that's why most of the big farmers there are rich as kings. Any questions?"

"Yes- why is it so important that these 'Mormons' you speak of back up their money with gold? Why can they not simply use trade g-" Kamandi began.

"Because money is a lot easier to carry than trade goods." Sibella replied.

"Took the words right out of my mouth. Anyone else want to ask something?"

"Can we get to the good stuff yet?" Phantasma asked.

Arrowette sharply exhaled.

"Well, New Mexico's pretty much road gang central, barring a few last bastions like Santa Fe and Albuquerque proper. As for Arizona… hoo boy is that place a mess!"

"How much of a mess?" Luna asked.

"Let's just say that it's a bunch of feuding little fiefdoms, and one of the bigger warlords- the Black Baron, I think he's called- was planning on taking the old Hoover Dam, then continue on to Vegas-"

"Wait, Vegas still exists?! Why didn't anyone tell me?!" Dusk thundered.

"Fortunately, there's some kind of resistance to that guy- a bunch of guys in power armor playing knight errant. Frankly, it's nice to see a bunch of proper white hats out in this forsaken wasteland. And now, to round out our tour, let's go over California."

Luna's hand shot up.

"Yes?"

"Is LA still there?"

"From what I've heard, most of it is. That said, our main focus is on San Francisco, since I've been there, and I'll just let you know right now that it's radically different from what it looked like before the war."

"How so?" Thorn asked.

"After the nuke and the Big One, most of the city was so much smoldering rubble- and that was even with the Titans helping to pick up the pieces. As such, a lot of the newer buildings have a more distinctly…Oriental flare to them."

There was a long silence.

"So, is there anything else we need to know about these other lands?" Kamandi finally asked.

"Only one more- Louisiana."

"Hey- that's where we came from!" Phantasma exclaimed.

"Now considering we probably won't be going in that direction anytime soon, all you really need to know is that it's a pirate town, the guy in charge is a puppet ruler for some shadowy supernatural types, and it's the only place I know of where you can easily make the trip back East."

"Wait- didn't you tell me it was a bitch and a half to cross the Mississippi these days the last time we talked about this?" Dusk asked.

"That's because the guy who makes the crossings allegedly makes them across the Gulf of Mexico- New Orleans to Sarasota."

Thorn's eyes lit up, and she promptly fell onto her knees.

"Are you okay?" Kamandi asked.

"…home…we can finally go home…" the Hex Girls' leader excitedly said as tears began to run down her face.

* * *

_Rhodes Jail_

The Saint sat upon the wooden bench that was the sole piece of furniture in his cell, waiting for the guard to pass him by. To a casual observer, it would have appeared that he was merely fiddling with his boot- a mistake that the Saint's plan hinged on the guard making.

"What're you up to, boy?" the guard asked as he walked up to the cell.

In a single well-honed motion, the Saint withdrew his hand from his boot, now clutching a derringer.

"You rat bas-"

The weapon fired, and the guard keeled over, clutching his stomach in agony.

"You better hope a friend finds you soon, 'cause I hear infection's a nasty way to die." the Saint proclaimed as he took the keys off the felled guard.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Well, sorry for this being a bit of an info dump. As compensation, expect a fair bit more action in the next chapter.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Blitzkrieg Bop

The plains of Oklahoma soon gave way to the shrub-steppes of New Mexico, with relatively well-maintained roads of the former giving way to the rougher roads of the latter, the sides of which littered with the rusting hulks of vehicles- most of them long-crashed motorcycles, vans, dune buggies, and pickup trucks. If the members of Mystery Inc. and the rest of their convoy had to guess, these hulks had presumably once been part of some road gang's fleet, or had belonged to any of those gangs' victims- and if they weren't careful, their vehicles would probably join them.

* * *

A brawny shirtless man lounged in the New Mexico sun with a pair of binoculars around his neck, most of his upper body tattooed a dark blue. The only bare skin above his waistline was a patch of his chest and stomach that, through negative space, formed an Iron Cross. As he sat up and looked through the binoculars, he saw a small convoy- two vans following a bus.

"Brünnhilde- report!"

A few moments later, a butch-looking, blond-haired woman with a swastika tattooed upon each of her bare breasts marched up to the man.

"Yes, _mein Herr?_" the woman asked.

"Gather the men and let them know that we have found easy prey- so says von Bach, _der Raubritter_!"

"Yes, _mein Herr_." the woman replied as she walked away.

* * *

"Well, here we are- White Lightning territory." Arrowette said.

"Who are they again?" Dusk asked.

"Imagine a bunch of Neo-Nazi road warriors with a fondness for souped-up muscle cars and bikes, add addictions to all manner of hard drugs, and then give them military-grade firepower."

"…what sort of hard drugs?" Thorn meekly asked.

"Mostly methamphetamine and PCP, plus something called 'khat'- apparently something that soldiers returning from the Qurac campaign brought with them. Speaking from experience, those drugs are what makes them dangerous even by road gang standards."

"And why's that?" Tanis timidly inquired.

"Despite what you'll hear from most travelers, the average road gang's more concerned with taking your stuff than taking your life- the old "stand and deliver" schtick, y'know?"

The mummy nodded.

"Now, when you get stopped by a member of White Lightning, you've got no idea of what they're going to do. Sure, they may take your stuff and leave you be, but they're just as likely to kill you if you look at them funny."

Just then, there was a squawk from the CB radio near the driver's seat.

"_We've got _what_ heading our way?!_" Luna asked.

* * *

Fred blinked as he looked in the Mystery Machine's rearview mirror. Behind them and the comms van was an approaching horde of motorcycles, heavily modified muscle and sports cars, armed pickup trucks, and a hot rod Cadillac convertible at the rear.

_That's not a gang- it's an army!_ he thought.

Just then, a noise struck Fred's ears. A quick glance behind revealed the source to be yet another pickup truck, this one adorned with all manner of speakers that were blasting Richard Wagner's greatest hits at such a volume that the entirety of Mystery Inc. was convinced that it could be heard from the Grand Canyon.

"Everyone in the back, brace yourselves!" he exclaimed as he gunned the engine

In the back, there was a sudden "_OOF!_" from Ace as she tumbled into Shaggy. Meanwhile, in the passenger seat, Velma had rolled down her window and was currently reaching for her revolver when one of the bikers pulled up, pointing a Walther P38 at her.

"_Ergib dich jetzt und wir versprechen dir einen raschen Tod!_" (Surrender now, and we promise to give you a swift demise!) the skinhead in question proclaimed.

"Go to Hell!" Velma retorted as she drew her weapon and fired a round into the marauder's chest, sending the bike and its recently deceased operator rocketing off into the distance under its own momentum.

"Like, nice shooting, Tex!" Shaggy exclaimed from the back of the Mystery Machine.

"Save the celebration, because we're not out of the woods yet!" Velma replied.

As if to emphasize the point, what looked like a '69 Ford Mustang covered in improvised armor and bearing a hood-mounted machine gun appeared in the rearview mirror.

"Son of a- Daphne, give 'em a taste of the plasma gun!" Fred exclaimed.

"No can do! The power pack's out of juice!"

"Then use your backup!"

Daphne gave a quick nod, grabbed a nearby Ruger Mini-14 with a purple synthetic stock, and then opened the rear doors, trying her damnedest to ignore the wind now whipping around her.

_Got you in my sights._ she thought as the Mustang jockeyed into position directly behind the van.

A moment later, the rifle sang out as it fired, the bullet striking her opponent's windshield.

_That should slow them down a bit._

Just then, the Mustang shot forward, giving Daphne a good look of the driver shattering the now-useless windshield with his bare forearm.

"Eat lead, bucko!"

Another report from the Ruger, this one striking one of the front tires and causing it to burst. A moment later, the Mustang veered off to the side.

"Scratch one bandit!" Daphne whooped.

Right on cue, there was a sound of another bursting tire, followed by the Mystery Machine veering off towards the side of the road.

"Oh, son of a-"

A split second later, the rear doors slammed shut on their own- just in time for the Mystery Machine's exposed wheel to hit something that hadn't been there before and send the vehicle toppling onto its side.

* * *

_Unknown location- some time later_

"_Good- you're all in one piece._" a woman's voice proclaimed.

Fred experimentally opened his eyes, and saw a topless blond woman with a buzzcut and a tattooed swastika on both breasts looming before him and the others.

"Who…who are you?"

"They call me Brünnhilde- and as of now, you and your comrades are property of White Lightning."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

If you're wondering who Brünnhilde is, she's this Elseworld's version of Bruno, one of Joker's henchmen from _The Dark Knight Returns_ (and before anyone asks, yes, she had the swastika tattoos on her breasts in _The Dark Knight Returns_). As for von Bach, he's a minor character from _Kingdom Come_, who's supposed to be an homage to the use of Hitler or thinly-veiled stand-ins of him as villains back in the Golden Age (though ironically, according to both the _Kingdom Come_ novelization and the Apocrypha section of the trade paperback, he's actually Yugoslavian).


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Nazi Punks, F*** Off! (Part 1)

"Everyone, hold onto something!" Luna exclaimed as a White Lightning muscle car pulled up alongside the bus.

"Whatever f-" Kamandi began.

Right on cue, the bus sharply veered to the side and slammed into the hostile vehicle, sending Kamandi falling ass over teakettle as the larger vehicle made impact.

"Well, on the plus side, we won't have to worry about insurance claims!" Thorn said as she braced herself.

"Y'know, if that car's still in good enough shape, maybe we could take it for ourselves- fix up the damage, find some way to get rid of the Nazi iconography, that sorta thing." Dusk mused.

"Considering that thing's still moving, I don't think we need to worry too much about repairing it if we decide to add it to our convoy!" Luna replied.

"Guess that desperado doesn't have a clue of when he's licked." Jonah said.

"Ooh! I can handle him!" Phantasma proudly exclaimed.

"Well, don't just stand there- do something!" Arrowette snapped.

And with that, Phantasma phased through the bus's wall and made her way to her target.

* * *

"_Für den Ruhm des Von Bach!_" (For the glory of Von Bach!) the car's driver proclaimed as they gunned the engine.

Just as the car launched forward, the driver become acutely aware of a nearby otherworldly presence.

"What th-"

"_Hi! I'm Phantasma! Mind if I borrow this for a bit?_"

Before the driver could reply, the presence took control of their body and proceeded to slam down on the brake pedal, eventually bringing the car to a stop. A few seconds later, both the bus and a previously-unseen red six-wheeled van also came to a halt, and then the presence left the driver.

"_Was ist das für eine Zauberei?_" (What sorcery is this?) they asked, racing to get moving once more. Before they could succeed, a length of linen bandage shot out and wrapped around their foot before proceeding to drag them out of the vehicle.

* * *

"Now, let's see just what kind of bastard's under this thing." Dusk proclaimed as she grabbed onto the face-concealing helmet that the driver had been wearing.

The Hex Girls's drummer yanked on the helmet, causing it to promptly fly off and reveal the face of a young brunette teenage girl.

"_Schwein!_ You shall all kneel before Von Bach, der _Raubritter_,scourge of the Apache, bane of Albuqu-"

"Shut the **** up!" Dusk snapped before proceeding to punch the girl in the face, followed by a kick to the stomach.

"Okay, I think that's enough." Thorn said as her bandmate continued to beat on the ganger.

Dusk shot her comrade a dirty glare.

"She's a Nazi! It's not like anyone gives a rat's ass about them!"

"That may be, but you're going to have to fake it for the time being." Dana said as she, Terry, and Max emerged from the comms van.

"Why?" Dusk snarled.

"Mystery Machine and its passengers got taken prisoner, that's why." Terry replied.

"You sure they didn't just get lost or something?"

"Positive. Saw them get captured with my own eyes."

"And your point is?" Dusk asked.

"If we want to have any chance of saving our friends, we need to know where they've been taken- and our best bet of finding that out is getting it out of our prisoner here."

* * *

"Let me go, you filthy vermin, lest the wrath of Von Bach descend upon you!" the prisoner ranted despite now being handcuffed to a towel bar in the bus's rear lounge.

"Are you _sure_ we can't rough her up some more? Just a little?" Dusk groused.

"Despite how tempting it may be, I'm sure." Thorn replied.

Just then, Dana entered the lounge, carrying various and sundry medical apparatuses.

"The hell is all that for?"

"Arrowette filled me in on these guys' drug habits, so I need to run some tests and see what she's currently got in her system."

"Why not just leave her cuffed here and let her go cold turkey?" Dusk replied.

"Because doing that'll probably kill her, meaning any intel she has goes with her to the grave."

"…I hate you right now."

"Because you know I'm right?"

There was a long silence.

"Let me be dead serious with you, Dusk- up until me, Max, and Terry got abandoned in that fallout shelter in Scrapheap, we were a hell of a lot like this kid. Yeah, we might've marched behind the Stars and Stripes instead of the swastika- but in the grand scheme of things, there isn't that much difference between Eiling's methods and this Von Bach guy's methods."

"So you think you can actually get through to that punk?"

"That's what I'm hoping."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Nazi Punks, F*** Off! (Part 2)

"So, what's in the punk's system?" Dusk mumbled as Dana returned.

"If the blood work's anything to go by, methamphetamine and PCP. Now, how is the patient?"

Dusk apathetically pointed to the towel bar, where the handcuffed raider was currently twitching, spasming, and pathetically moaning.

"Okay, now I'm going to need to unlock the cuffs." Dana said.

"Excuse me?"

"Trust me on this one."

"How'm I supposed to know she won't fling herself at me and try and claw off my face?"

"Well, the alternative is that I give her the detox agent here."

"So?"

"Let me put it this way- once the stuff gets going, this girl's body is going to start rapidly purging whatever's still in her system, and it'll be a messy process. So unless you feel like burning the flooring in here-"

"Fine! Just…just go!"

* * *

"So, what do you creeps even want with us?!" Daphne hissed as a leering Von Bach approached her cell.

" It is simple, my friend. In order to sustain our operations, we require certain resources. From Santa Fe and Albuquerque, we derive drugs and gasoline as tribute- or as the residents of those towns would call it, 'generous bribes'. But spare parts? Those are far harder to obtain in the quantity we need, for salvage has proven to not always be reliable in that regard."

"Get to the point!" Velma snapped.

" Here's how it works- factories in the remnants of Mexico make the parts we need, those parts get shipped up to Tucson, we pay for them in advance. Our allies there bring those parts to Santa Fe, our representatives pick them up, our payment goes back to Arizona." Brünnhilde replied.

"And how, pray tell, do you pay for these parts?" Daphne growled.

Von Bach let out a wicked cackle.

"With every shipment of parts that arrives from Arizona, we send our supplier the latest batch of prisoners as recompense. After all, someone has to toil in the copper pits of Tucson alongside the locals." he sneered.

He then turned his attention to Ace and Scooby.

"We can make use of the child and the dog within our own ranks."

"Rog? Rhere?"

From her cell, Ace glared at Von Bach with a fury beyond her years, drawing her captor's attention.

"And what do you want, little girl?"

"You want to make me and Scooby into your weapons, and Daphne into your mistress."

"And how do you know this, _meines Kind?_"

"I can hear your thoughts, and they make me sick."

Von Bach's eye twitched. A moment later, he promptly drew a silver-plated Luger with pearl grips, aiming it directly at Ace's head.

"_Tod dem Mutanten!_" he screamed, only for Brünnhilde to force his arm down.

"What on Earth are you doing?"

"We can still use her, my liege."

"There will be no mutants of any kind within our ranks, Brünnhilde!"

* * *

"So, how is our 'guest' doing now?" Jonah asked.

"See for yourself." Dana replied.

Jonah turned around and cringed as he gazed at the captured raider, her face contorted into an expression of pure misery as she gave the cowboy a blank stare. And in that moment, a twinge of sympathy coursed through his heart.

"Mind if I stay a while and talk with her?" he asked Dana.

"Knock yourself out. Besides, if you're planning to get any intel out of her, better you than Dusk."

A moment later, the medic handed Jonah a cup of orange liquid.

"What's this s'pposed to be?"

"Electrolyte replacement drink."

And with that, Dana left the infirmary, leaving Jonah and the captive alone.

"Here, little lady- drink up, 'cause it looks like you need it." Jonah said as he extended the cup to the young woman before him.

The raider took the cup and took an experimental sip and then another and another until eventually the cup was drained.

"So, what's your name?"

"Rose of Sharon, but my folks called me Rosasharn."

"Okay then, Rose of Sharon- you wanna tell me what a nice girl like you is doing with a band of outlaws like that White Lightning crew?"

"They went and tore up the homestead, told me I'd die or worse if I didn't join them."

"And then they went and done filled your head with bunkum 'till you thought it was gospel, and they also got you hooked on that poison just to make sure you stayed loyal."

"I guess…"

"Look, I ain't going to deny that you probably did a lot of things that'd make a mother cry before we picked you up. But the way I see it, you don't have to keep on that path. Like a guy in one of those movin' pictures made before everything to hell said, there ain't no fate but what we make for ourselves."

The old cowboy sighed.

"You wanna prove you're strong, Rosasharn? Then walk away from Von Bach, go and make a new life for yourself. 'cause if there's one thing I know, it's that outlaws usually don't die in their sleep."

There was a long silence.

"That being said, I'm gonna need to ask you something."

"What sort of something?"

"See, some of our friends got taken prisoner by your old buddies, and it'd be greatly appreciated if you could get us to where they're being held."


End file.
